When she stopped speaking, he told her, “Moira, with what we have been through, with what we have shared, you must know you’ve come to mean a great deal to me. Thus, love, I can assure you that you do not need to hold back. You can say anything to me.”

She jerked her chin up like a stubborn mare and announced, “I did not encourage them to go back to their homes, or you to take them there, because I didn’t want to go back to my own.”

Teddy stood still, knowing instantly he would not like what came next.

Faunus did the same, likely knowing this too.

“My mother is dead, and my father likes his drink far more than he cares about his daughter,” she stated. “He probably doesn’t even know I’ve been gone. He probably didn’t even know I was around to be gone.”

“All right,” he said quietly when she did not continue, though as suspected, he so did not like her words, he was uncertain he wished her to continue.

“I have, for a very long time, Teddy, taken care of myself and him, even though he does not care as he loses consciousness in front of the fire without putting the screen before it and thus it is a miracle our cottage has not burnt to the ground. Or he stumbles into the kitchen and breaks the crockery that I not only have to clean up, I have to find some way to make the coin to pay to replace it. Coin he steals to buy his grog. His whiskey. Whatever he can find to erase the loss of her and the existence of me, for I am not her, but would be a daily reminder of her if he allowed himself lucidity.”

Yes, Teddy had been right.

If he would have known what was to come forth, he would not have wished her to continue.

Nevertheless, she carried on doing so.

“I wash his clothes that are always soaked with spirits and sometimes covered in his vomit. And it is…” She shook her head. “Too much. It’s just,” her voice dropped, “too much. And you…you…you took care of me. You…you…risked your life to save mine. And I have not had someone look after me, someone who cared about me in…”

She pulled her lips between her teeth and looked away.

He hated knowing this to the extent he wasn’t able to form words before she spoke again.

“And I had purpose,” she told the wall beside them. “A good purpose. I…what I did had meaning. They depended on you and me. They…you saved us, and then we kept them safe.”

“Yes,” he said softly.

“It was selfish,” she whispered.