More than anything

She can see the dogs out on the deck, peering through the sliding glass door in concern. Pressing a kiss to Saoirse's hair, she says, "I'm going to pick you up, okay?" before carefully getting to her feet, the girl in her arms.

It takes a little careful maneuvering to get the door open and the dogs let back in, and more to get Saoirse over to the couch without tripping over Cu. But she manages, and she settles onto the cushions with Saoirse on her lap.

She wishes she knew what to do, how to make this better. Saoirse is still clutching the letter tight, but there's not much tactile comfort to be gathered from a piece of paper, no matter what is written on it. Greta touches it gently with one finger. "Is it all right if we put this someplace safe?" she asks quietly.