Harry considered her question. He would have liked to dismiss it. Shrug, crack a joke, and go on with his night. But this was Death. While being rude to immortal beings had never been an issue for him before, this one happened to be an attractive young woman who seemed genuine in her concern.
And Mouse liked her. Mouse was a good judge of character. Harry could tell a lot from the dog's reactions to others.
"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I'm not... I know I'm not the best person. I've tried to do the right thing. To make amends for the wrongs I've done. But ever since Chichén Itzá..." Harry shut his eyes as the images returned, of Susan's black eyes staring in horror at what her hands were becoming. Her pain. The way she'd asked him... the way he'd promised to make sure Maggie was safe. Looked after.
"Nightmares never stop," he said, fighting to hold back tears. "And Susan... I can't help but wonder if she understood what was happening. How much of her had already changed when I... I don't know if she hated me for doing that to her. I practically forced her into it. The change. The ritual. It was all my fault. I should have... I don't know, but I should have done something different. I should have saved them both."