Effie's head jerked up at his words, and she stared at him, the horror of what she had seen clear in her eyes, but also a returning intelligence. This was a moment, a crossroads. Effie could tell everything she saw...and risk being locked away forever, away from Bruce, her father, away from Damon who had been so nice to her.
Or...she could do exactly what she was going to, and lie. "Women...in Gotham. So many women.." Okay, so it was a half truth. Enigma had killed women in Gotham, not to the extent she had in the City, but those were very much not the memories Effie had been subjected to.
No, the Violetta murders were more then Enigma had done before or since, all those bodies, piled up on top of the other, blood staining them, their forever sightless eyes accusing, haunting.
Effie vomited again, gagging on the burning bile, whimpering. She wanted the memories to go away again, but knew they wouldn't. Her brain was allowing her better access, to remember, to heal...and in order to do so, she had to rip off the bandage and endure the memories before she could process them.