I was in a moment of failing faith.
Beyond the window a cold March rain slapped the pane.
I heard tears behind her voice.
She took my silence for an affirmation of her own fears.
She leaned very slightly against me so that I could feel the merest shadow of her weight.
The odour of Emeraude preceded her. And followed her.
I scrunched down and hoped my clothes would escape notice.
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