Blunt.

It was stupid.
Really goddamn stupid. He pursed his lips together, frowning down at me in disdain. I didn't see it. I didn't notice that faint, yet sinister twinkle in his eye. The way his pupils seemed to almost automatically, artificially snap precisely ten centimetres away from my face just as my head turned. The way I could feel a gaze burning a hole into my back.
"You were only ten," he murmured, his voice soaked in repulsive sympathy, "You didn't know?" Ten years. A decade. A whole bloody decade. Back when, Mother's saccharine-sweet smile seemed real, when I believed the stench that radiated of father was perfume and back when I thought that he was just a teacher, checking the length of my skirt. I- I don't know, it could have been anything. But I was blind, naïve and childish. The innocent ten years wasn't enough to capture the danger of our world. The danger which cost lives. The danger which cost so, so, so many lives.