You don’t like being by yourself. I don’t think many people do. Your family died or left you or turned out to be assholes, and that sucks, I can’t even start to say how bad that sucks, but Luidaeg—Annie—there’s a lot of different ways to make a family. We’re your family, too. All of us.” I waved a hand, encompassing Quentin and Tybalt. “We’re your weird, dysfunctional, foundling family, and we love you, and I think you love us. So you’re not going to turn my intestines into eels or my heart into an octopus. You’ve spent too much time grieving to do that to someone you’d have to mourn.”
