Brigitte owned up to things. Right now she didn’t want to own up to this. Because she knew that Walt would get all dramatic and she just didn’t want to deal with that. Simplicity. That’s what she was looking for in her life now.

"Fine, but what happened to your arms?"

She ignored him and concentrated on the book. The book that he took right out from under her with his own charm. “Hey!”
 
"Class is over.  How about we try this again and you tell me what's going on?"
 
“Walt, when I tell you it’s none of your business, then it’s none of your business,” she told him pointedly.” But he of course was having none of it. “Fine!” she shouted, shoving the sleeves up and thrusting her arms in his face. “They’re cuts. Happy?!”
 
Snatching the book out of his hands, she tossed it across the room. It hit the hardwood with a loud, reverberating thump. Brigitte stared at it, refusing to look at Walt.

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