God, she is not -- she is not -- doing this in the middle of a bloody grocer's. She presses her free hand to her mouth for a moment, then nods, giving Amalthea's hand a grateful squeeze. She still can't quite bear the thought of telling her; it still feels like it would be an enormous disservice. But if they can just get somewhere quieter, that will at least be a start.

"Please," she says, not trusting her voice to say much else.