[States? He knows countries, and cities, but not... that. Cain closes his mouth and decides not to ask; he's made himself look clueless enough already.]

Your first? [A sharp turn of the head, cigarette back between his lips, eyes narrowed and cat-like.] ... Forget it. It's fine. [You didn't know might be off his lips next, but Cain twists it away with another inhale, exhale.] I'm not bothered.

You're saying that you're from the past? How's that even possible?