[That's the one thing that makes all of this so puzzling, isn't it? For some reason, Diavolo made several odd decisions in sequence. He took a picture, an act that went completely against the secrecy he made tantamount to his entire existence. Stranger than that, well...Trish herself wouldn't be here if he hadn't allowed someone to get close enough to touch him.

But the boy Donatella knew and the man Trish met were utterly different. As if Solido Naso had been another person entirely. As if Diavolo had excised what little good there was to find in him with nigh surgical precision. Sure, people change, but this is too hard to reconcile.

So Doppio's comment doesn't bother her. After all, he was of one mind in sharing details about the boss, in that he didn't want to tell and she didn't want to listen. But now he's talking; and now, she's thinking. She conjures in her mind the moment this picture was taken, with her mother draping her arms on the stone fixture, and Diavolo behind the camera, taking it because...

Because...

Trish doesn't chide Doppio. Her thumb traces the frame of the photo.]

He took it for her because she asked.

[Abruptly, Trish's voice takes on the echo of a cheery lilt as she continues:]

"I handed him my camera, practically begging him to take one picture. Just one! I wanted to remember Sardinia forever." That's what she said every time she talked about this photo.

[Trish looks in Doppio's direction then, but her gaze is somewhere past him, hazy.]

I've often wondered why he agreed. Maybe he didn't think she would remember him. Unfortunately for him, I was there to remind her every day, wasn't I?

[So, she disagrees. Diavolo is perfectly capable of mistakes and regrets, just like any other person alive, despite how highly Doppio thinks of him.]