When I was younger, well. As long as he lived, if what Degas said was true- my father was of the opinion that every LeBlanc should have a Lupin. [Her eyes go a little distant, but her smile remains bright. Sincere.] Someone mad. Someone creative, manic, inspiring. Degas was my father's Lupin. For the entirety of my life, I assumed that Remy was mine.

[And for the entirety of her life, that had been true. But now? She has the real thing. And it's wonderful in it's own way, strange memories and experiments aside.]

I do not think I have been so glad to have been wrong before.