"Yes, I'm sorry. And yes, it's happened twice." Getting ahead of himself. "She doesn't stay at my house often" - not yet - "but the last few times she has, it's happened. The time before that, it was a dream involving me and you both. Trying to catch a man who extracted organs from people so sloppily that he murdered them. You were able to save the last - you got into the ambulance with the man and stopped the bleeding. And I looked at you."
He remembered looking at Dr. Lecter, all right; the gaze they'd shared hissing like a spark into some forgotten corner of his prefrontal cortex; promising some great truth, something lifechanging, that he'd promptly shoved away.