Elsa doesn't know what to do with that information. Some part of her regrets asking, but another part – a stronger part – wants to reassure Anna; tell her that wasn't her fault. It was her scumbag of a husband's.

Even though she's pregnant, she's grateful. Grateful that she learned such horrors about Hans before her child was born; before everything became complicated.

She glances down at the swell of her stomach. Anna's dissolved into tears, and the sleeves of her shirt are completely soaked.

Elsa pulls Anna close.

"It's not your fault," she says.