Molly shakes her head as best she can without hurting herself, not much of a movement at all but still insistent, enough to be visible. "No," she says, "no, I... I want to do this now." It's not like waiting will change anything. She'll be just as hurt, just as shaken, in five minutes as she is right now. If anything, delaying what she knows has to happen now is bound to only make it worse, the night's events replaying over and over in her head so she can make sure she doesn't forget anything. She isn't looking forward to having to talk about it at all, to give voice to the fucking awful things that happened, but not doing so won't take them away, and she knows this is necessary. If there's anyone who she won't mind knowing, anyway, it's Russell, though that doesn't make it much easier to actually put it all into words. "So how does this work? Do you ask me questions, or?"