Kate doesn't hold onto much these days. She doesn't let herself. She's never certain when something once solid and sure will slip away from her — she's only certain that it will. Eventually, everything always does.

So, she remains. Huddled in on herself.

What's worse, she knows she isn't making a lick of sense, mumbling dribs and drabs between bursts of tears. She'd be more frustrated with herself if she wasn't so preoccupied being devastated. For the moment, it's just easier listening than it is speaking.

"What changed 'is mind?"