She moved backwards as he advanced, an automatic movement which she didn't regret. Not when the glass bit into her feet and not when her eyes darted to see the bodies return. He'd gotten rid of them and brought them back, but it couldn't be his dream. She'd know if the dream wasn't hers, wouldn't she?
There wasn't a denial at the name, even if she knew she was Lotte. Or should have been. She had memories of his voice saying it, between pleading and shouting. She shook her head for other reasons, hands held out in defense.
"It's not," she protested. "I'm not-" The wind tugged at her hair, blowing into her and silencing her. Her left hand tugged at it as she looked up, terrified at the look in his eyes. "Please, stop it." Even if it was her dream, she didn't know how to fix things herself.