Bourne nodded. "Right. I had nothing to do with the other event. I was framed. But I went to the hotel that kept popping up in my memories, the place where I'd --" no need to sugarcoat it. "Where I'd murdered a Russian politician and his wife. I'd made it look like a murder-suicide. And I'd orphaned a little girl back in Moscow. I had to go apologize at least, you know? I mean...I couldn't bring her parents back. And it kills me that I can't.

"I checked into the hotel with one of the passports they'd had Interpol flag. Within five minutes, I was surrounded. So I escaped. I had to run through half of Berlin, but I escaped. And I knew right where I was going. I had to find the man who had started it all. My old boss. He'd had Marie killed to save his own skin from being investigated for a shady oil deal. He told me..." His hands started to shake. "He told me I was the reason she was dead."

Bourne took a deep breath, running his hands up over his face and through his short hair. That lingering bit of doubt Abbott had seeded in him was still there - and it was part of why he ran so hard and trained so angrily. Maybe if he fought hard enough he could make it not true.