Then, from the corner, very softly— "I'm sorry."
Si Hon looked up from where he was reorganizing the food by type out of habit. "For what."
"It just—" She stopped. Started again, quieter. "It feels traumatizing. I know that's—" Another stop. "Before we regressed. I felt it. I felt my bones." Her voice didn't waver, exactly, but something in it was thin. "I know we reset. I know it doesn't matter now. But I felt it, and I can't just— I don't know how to explain it. I hate this. It hurts."
Si Hon set down what he was holding.
Walked over and crouched beside her, one hand finding her back, and patted it once, steady and unhurried. "Yeah," he said. "I know. But you're not alone right now, okay? Imagine doing all of this by yourself." A pause. "So. Cheer up. I'm here."
She let out a breath at that— soft, slow, the kind that released something that had been held too long. Then she was quiet for a moment. When she spoke again her voice had changed slightly, gone somewhere more inward.
