Distantly, she can feel the press of Remy at her back. There, one step below her, bracing her so she won't fall. Shielding her from any prying eyes.

She refuses to fall apart.




"It's jus' been — a lot."

This whole month. The last several months. So much has happened, good and bad, and she hasn't really stopped to think or rest or breathe. And it's December. December. And she hasn't had any time — 

It takes a couple of minutes, but eventually she gets control of herself.

"I hate this time'a year. An' I'm so mad at Voodooo  —  so mad I can't hardly see straight. I jus' need t'be by myself."