Wishing that Regan could just speak is something Greta has tried to avoid, both out of general wish-related paranoia, and because it had always seemed a little churlish and selfish a thing to wish. But now, with Regan's hands in bad shape and with no other easy means of communication, the frustration is almost enough to make her scream. Something has happened to Saoirse, and she wants to know exactly what, and she wants to know yesterday. Every second of uncertainty is one in which her imagination can churn out horrible possibility after horrible possibility: she's been hurt, she's disappeared, the cottage's bloody roof fell in. It can only be something terrible if it sent Regan sobbing through the snow to get here.

Greta clamps down on her fears and frustration, refusing to let it rise to the surface as she takes Regan's frozen hands in her warm ones and tries to rub life back into them. As she does, she guides the girl over to a bench and sits her down. The snow had long since prompted her to pull out all the throw blankets they'd put in storage for the summer, and she grabs the nearest one and wraps it around Regan's shoulders.

Then, unable to wait any longer, she catches the girl's eye and signs Saoirse's name.