Amalthea brought her some water, then sat with her. She didn't ask for details, but she did watch Greta with bright eyes, patient. Something was deeply troubling the woman, something heavier than Molly had ever carried, maybe. A faint frown flickered across her face after Greta spoke.

"But it is not your story now," she said quietly. She supposed that was of no comfort, once she said it, but maybe it could be?