She shakes her head--no, they aren't lying--but what is required of her here is something more complicated than that. Reading over the names, she verifies that her memories of that breakfast, hearing the messenger shout out her crimes, are correct: all of these people are bodies she encountered.

"I killed them all," she finally says, her eyes still on the parchment. "I did not know all their names. But I know who they were."

The baker. The seneschal. The Chantry sister. Laura remembers all of them. Wariness has her tongue, though, even more than usual--she doesn't think to offer an explanation for it unasked. Saying anything feels dangerous just then.