"No, it's okay. We need to hear it all," he says, even though he hates listening to it. His hands are balled into fists in his lap and what he wants, more than anything, is to do something awful to Patrick Bateman. Tear his fucking hands off or break each one of his fingers for ever daring to lay them on Molly, but he can't. Whatever he wants to do is useless. Nothing can take it away and nothing can make it better for her.

He doesn't want to ask, but he has to.

"How did he break your nose?"