“There, there,” Cordelia runs her fingers down Eliot’s palms, then intakes a deep breath and stares upward at the ceiling. “‘These violent delights have violent ends, And in their triumph die like fire and powder, Which as they kiss consume.’” Tom leans into me to whisper, “Romeo and Juliet. She must know Eliot is a thespian.” Eliot grins and applauds. “Perfect oration.” Cordelia smiles sadly at him. “You will help the voiceless find a voice, but it won’t be without consequence.” “Ominous,” Eliot widens his eyes with a smile. “What else?” She pats the top of his hand. “Continue to love with
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