What the hell was he talking about, murdered? Unlike Andrew and his son, Diane had not read any files on Albert Wesker and the words that were pouring out of his mouth were completely foreign to her as a result. Arching her brow she gave him a look of complete and total lack of comprehension. She was following him up until the point he suddenly snapped at her and called her a fool.
And that was it.
Pulling her hand back in a swift movement, she closed the gap between her palm and his face rather quickly, filling the air with a bit of an awful sounding ‘snap’ from the slap.
“How dare you call me a fool. After everything I’ve been through, you’re going to call me —”
Getting up from the chair, which toppled over from the speed in which she stood, Diane reached to the table and picked up her purse in a huff. She pointed an angry finger this time at Andrew, biting back bitter tears as she did.
“I always did say I was the silliest girl in Rapture and if there’s anything I’m a fool for, it’s for having believed in you and actually, actually thinking that you would make everything okay because of who you are, who you were. I’m a fool alright.” She gave up, helplessly letting her arms fall to her sides. “I’m a fool for believing in you, for believe in Steiman, for believing in Atlas — for believing in anything to do with Rapture.”
After a moment, she bit her lip, pressing a palm to her face and curling her fingers just slightly at it before dropping it to her side as well.
“I can’t even look at you right now.” I wish I were dead. She thought.
So she didn’t anymore. Instead she began walking. Where to? She had no idea, but she needed to walk, to think, to be frustrated and to cry.