The girl put her head down on her arms on Patty’s desk. Her shoulders shook. In a few minutes she said, looking up, her face wet, “I’m sorry. But when someone’s nice to me— Oh God, it just kills me.” “That’s okay,” Patty said. “No, it’s not.” The girl wept again, steadily and with noise. “Oh God,” she said, wiping at her face. Patty handed her a tissue. “It’s okay. I’m telling you. It is all going to be okay.”
