He reacted to her outburst with a calm smile.  Monica being mad at him was something old that hadn’t happened in a while, nothing new.  It was a situation Elmer knew how to handle.

He smiled as he called the event to mind.  ”You really don’t remember?  We met during the afternoon class because Nerenerenerene forgot to introduce me in the morning.”  Elmer laughed again.  ”I thought I made a really solid impression, but I guess I was wrong.”  He shrugged and straightened the collar of the jacket he was wearing, all the while wondering why she seemed so terribly unhappy.  It wasn’t as if forgetting him was a big deal. If she didn’t remember the fun times they’d had before then he would take it upon himself to create new memories for her to smile about, and maybe this time they’d be able to pull it off without her stabbing him.  
“M’hmm,” he hummed, “that’s me!”   Or maybe she would remember after all and they could just pick up their friendship where they left off.  Either way Elmer was sure he’d be able to make the best of the situation.  

“Or hey, maybe you are the girl I knew, but you hit your head and got amne—” he stopped talking abruptly when she snapped at him.  Clearly he wasn’t helping to cheer her up.  If anything he seemed to be having the opposite effect. 
Elmer counted two hundred seconds of silence, all the while wondering how much time she would need to think.

He was beginning to regret not asking her to have lunch with him right off the bat.  At least then they’d be having this conversation at a cafe, possibly over coffee; in which case she’d have a good cup of coffee to smile about, at the very least.  
“Of course I know.”   He grinned.  ”You, or her, or how about we just go with “Monica”? —Anyway, Fermet was the one who killed Monica.  I just caught the end bit though, the part that involved blood-loss and drowning.”  He was still smiling casually, as if her death was no more interesting than the weather; it may have even been less interesting than the weather.  
For him that moment in time was over.  Dwelling on it couldn’t change it.  But there was one thing he wanted to change about the moment they were in now.  ”Hey, d’you know what would really help me tell if you’re the Monica I knew or not?” Elmer didn’t wait for an answer. “You smiling for me!”

Her mind was spinning with a mixture of muddled memories and muddled information from Elmer.  All of it was too much for her to grasp.  But the moment when Elmer mentioned Fermet’s name—and implicated that he killed her—is when Monica was driven over the edge.  Without warning, she dragged Elmer by the sleeve, her eyes hidden beneath her bangs, and dragged him into a nearby abandoned apartment that she’d use for recon while she scouted the premise as the Mask Maker.  The wood beneath them creaked, wallpaper peeled from the wall, dust collected on what remained of the apartment’s furniture.  The silence almost seemed excruciatingly long when it could have merely been the span of seconds.  Now, with no one around, not a witness in sight, Monica turned on him fiercely, her eyes blazing with malicious, murderous intent.  Grabbing him by the collar, she slammed him into the wall, quickly slipping out her stiletto against his throat.

She would have gutted his brains out.

But something stayed her trembling hand.

"You’re wrong…  You’re wrong.  You’re wrong.  You’re wrong.  You’re wrong.  You’re wrong…!" Monica shouted furiously, repeating herself like a broken record.  "Fermet didn’t kill me!  He saved me!  He found me and saved me!  Don’t lie, don’t lie!  Take it back!”  She was screaming at him now, angrily, desperately.

She would not have that man’s name being spoken of in vain.  There was no way.  It was impossible.  She had heard everything from Fermet, every last detail.  On a ship, so very long ago, an immortal named Huey Laforet had stabbed her.  She fell into the water and was washed ashore along the outskirts of a small country town in Italy.  It was there that Monica Campanella was found by Fermet and took care of her.  He subjected her into “experiments” that were supposed to help her when in reality, each “experiment” began chipping away at her memories, stealing them away until even her memory of Huey Laforet was gona; of course, Monica didn’t know this now.  When the process was complete, Fermet had set her into the world in order to find her murderer and exact justice upon him.  Of course, Monica wasn’t completely loyal to Fermet.  She would always despise the experiments that were subjected onto her—even if they were supposed to “help” her.  But that man was her only human contact for the past—Monica didn’t even know for how long, but for what felt like forever.  She wouldn’t allow this bumbling, smiling idiot to get away with daring to insult Fermet.  No, no, no.  She couldn’t.

Her breath stifled as she drove her stiletto closer to his neck, nearly cutting into Elmer’s skin.  ”I know you’re lying because that man told me who killed me!  It’s an immortal—an immortal named Huey Laforet!  He’s the one who killed me!  If you’re him…”  Her blade pierced his skin.  ”If you’re him, I’ll… I’ll…!”