Her nose isn't as developed as Lark's, but she can still smell Tommy in her pillows, in the sheets. It's fading and a part of her is glad for that, sometimes she picks a different bunk entirely to sleep in, but there's also a part of her that dreads the day when she gets in bed and finds that his scent has disappeared, like he was never here at all.

That's the thing that gets to her, when she lets herself feel it. Tommy, Alfie, Rohan and Jolyne, Poe, so many people have gone with so little to leave behind that sometimes, it overwhelms her.

It's another reason she hasn't reached out the way she probably should. There's less chance of losing people if she doesn't have anyone to lose.

And then there's Lark, with tea, and something so vulnerable and open passes over her face. Her eyes go a little shiny, her throat closes up and she has to look down, but she pushes those feelings back.

"You didn't have to do this," she says once she feels like she can speak without her voice wavering.