As you all know, I was stuffed in Arkham State Hospital for a decade. Convicted of murdering seven women. Summer Gleeson. Taylor Montgomery. Yolanda Jones. Nancy Hoffman. Suzanna Weekley. DeVry Blake. And Trisha Becker. Their names are worth saying. Victims are so quickly forgotten, aren't they? Our stories are rarely told.
Okay, alright. I think that's--
Yes? Hm? I've had a lot of time to reflect. And I have to say... I was genuinely surprised at how many of you wrote letters telling the judge that I was mentally ill. Like my mother. Not that the judge needed much convincing; my father saw to that. Still, I trusted you. I loved you. And yet not one of you tried to help me. Except for my brother. The man you all flew in to mourn. And you know, the real thorn in my side is that, unlike everyone here, I was innocent. I mean... Jesus Christ, Milos has a higher body-count than I do.
Sofia!
I know you're all anxious for me to leave. No one has been shy about that. I'd really hoped that it would be different, but I understand. I don't fit into this family any more. So tomorrow, I'm starting a new life. For the first time, I have hope. To new beginnings. Cent'Anni.
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