“Jesus, Cian…” Her hands released the cup, which now rested precariously in her lap, one pressing into the leather upholstery of the couch, the other touching the center of her abdomen. A reaction not to his story, but the sudden stab of grief in her body, which she felt as clearly as if it had been her family. Rhiannon thought of the death of her mother and how badly it hurt; what if she had lost four instead of one?

"You were right to do what you did," she said. There was no other reaction that would make sense to her.