Bree stared for a moment, mystified, at the pebble sitting so impossibly in the center of her palm again. It was the same pebble, she was sure. Of course it was. She had watched Ethan toss it away, and then it had simply... Come back. Ethan seemed to be saying he could somehow predict these... Probabilities? And she'd certainly gotten the proof, such as it was, in the palm of her hand. 

She honestly could not believe she was willing to consider this possibility, that the man before her was somehow... Superhuman? Like a superhero from the comics, able to somehow see the probabilities of this world and use them to move through the world so easily.

She poked at the pebble for a moment with the fingertip of her hand, the pebble that had somehow or other found it's way back to her, however unlikely. And Bree was quiet for several long moments, letting the thoughts run through her head as they would. Yes, she could see now, attribute all the insanely improbable and impossible things she had seen him do with her own eyes. How Ethan could walk off a 15-story rooftop, and somehow glide all the way down to the ground; how he could make that impossible leap to the ferry, leaving her stunned at the dock. It might even make sense, how he could walk out of a jail, and then a police station - impossible probabilities.

Still, there were some questions that simply could not be explained away so easily, so pat as this seeming bit of magic Ethan had devised.

Her gaze turned up from the pebble in her palm to the man before her. Yes, there were still a couple vital questions left, answers she could not sleep again without hearing from the only man in the world who could provide them.

"Gravity works as it does, and wind as well. Water yes - apparently water is easy. Isn't that what you said?" Bree chewed the inside of her lip thoughtfully, trying to ignore the strange, phantom ache in her chest, over the scar that had actually stopped causing her the least trouble some months ago. 

"What about bullets, Ethan? Do they work the same way?" She leaned forward just a little, hand closing into a loose fist over that pebble, something of a sudden, strange talisman to her now. "Why did you kill Victor? What had he ever done to you, that you would? I knew him, for some time. To the best of my knowledge Ethan, you weren't so much as an acquaintance of his. Not even his gardener or his manicurist or his pool boy. Nada."

"So why? How?" Bree stopped chewing the inside of her lip, letting out a long breath of air she didn't even know she'd held inside. "And did you mean to nearly kill me too, Ethan? I've chased you all over this country, East coast to West, just to know these things."

"I can barely sleep, Ethan. Not since that day," Bree admitted, helpless to stop the words once they had begun. "I close my eyes, and I see Victor's head explode, and then I'm falling. Just falling, until I hit the ground and wake up screaming, piss off my neighbors, scare the hell out of my cat. But even worse are the nights he talks to me, Victor does. A dead guy with half a gory head, asking me why I didn't keep him safe like I said I would, so much for witness protection and all that B.S... "

Her voice finally trailed off as she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms almost protectively around her knees, covering her belly, her vulnerable chest and her long scar, until she could finally meet Ethan's gaze once more.