““His grip firmed on her arms. “I’m here. You’re not alone now.” Hardly poetry, those words. A simple statement of fact. They scarcely shared the same alphabet as kindness. If true comfort were a nourishing, wholemeal loaf, what he offered her were a few stale crumbs. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. She was a starving girl, and she hadn’t the dignity to refuse. “I’m so sorry,” she managed, choking back a sob. “You’re not going to like this.” And with that, Kate fell into his immense, rigid, unwilling embrace—and wept.””
