But she said nothing, just kept her hand on the thin fabric of his tunic until a little comfort began to leach in with the warmth. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Not enough to do anything.” “We do terrible things,” Solace told him. “That’s what people do, to survive. It’s like during the war, people having to work out how best to evacuate a world. Having to decide who’s allowed to go and who stays to die.
