“What did she do to you?” he murmured. “Not me,” I said quietly. “But others.” “You’ve got an actual heart under that iron exterior, haven’t you Cain?” he said, a slight taunt to his voice, but it seemed to be in friendly jest instead of a nasty jibe. “Not much of one.” “I think it’s the kind layered in scars. That’s what makes you fit in with us. We’re all broken on the inside.”
