Maryanne pressed her lips together. He could tell her, why couldn't she tell him? "Before I was on the island, I was on a train that was a lot like it. But before that..." She caught the corner of her lip and chewed on it a little. "A sniper had caught me in the shoulder, from behind. Me and my kind were being hunted down and eradicated. There were less than two hundred of us left." Her eyes dropped to the shiny flat of the grand piano. "There had been thirty million, give or take some, of us once. Sixteen million died on Genosha. Then... I don't know what happened, but in the little settlement that I moved to in Louisiana we woke up one morning and more than three quarters of us had been depowered." She knew she was slipping into a memory, when she shook her head and looked back up at him. "Sorry."
Her hand had remained beneath his the entire telling. And she didn't dare move it now.