When Saoirse finally lets go, Greta takes the letter and carefully sets it on the end table. It should be safe enough there for the time being. Later, they can find a more suitable spot for it.

"There we are," she says, wrapping her arms back around the girl. "And you can hold onto me as tightly as you want, all right? I won't wrinkle." She lets a hint of fond amusement creep into her tone -- not to make light of Saoirse's distress, but to let some light into the gloom.