Diego is still gaping and the scrutiny makes her want to sink into the floor and disappear. Then again that isn't totally fair. There isn't anything about tonight that doesn't make Vanya want to stop existing— Now, an hour ago, five years ago, the day she was born, any and all good exit points if she'd had anything to say about it. If only.

But that's not what Diego is waiting to hear, not what she needs to say now. How can she say any of this? She can't. She has to.

"He knew. He knew all along that..." She stops herself, throat closing as she realizes— She has to specify. There's more than one now that's played her for a fool, a test subject to toy with and observe and lie to. Her voice breaks but, Vanya forces the words out around a sob. "Leonard. He had the book, in his house, he only ever wanted to. T- I don't know what he wanted, but."

Whatever it was, it wasn't her. A deep dark voice in her chest sneers at the idea, at how stupid she was to think anybody would ever, could ever want just plain boring old Vanya. Mockingly replays Allison's concerns and her own defensive insistence that she knew what she was doing. That he cared. That she was finally special to somebody.

Her eyes ache along with the rest of her now as she blinks back tears. She doesn't want to hear Diego's exasperation at best, mockery at worst for not being able to finish a simple debrief. Vanya clings to that thought, helps keep her from flying into a hundred thousand pieces.

"I found the book and everything it was saying and I just. I just came here."