The words sink into Heine's mind, but a part of them rings slightly... false. Wrong.

"Professor Eichel and you—the pool. Downstairs." Fragments are all he can manage, when there are conflicting events, multiple times, uncertain and wavering in his mind.

"You fu—you and Eichel both." Heine takes in one fast, deep breath, and steps over it. "No. He did it to me, before."