"He has people he cares about, here. Darcy's around. There's you. Erin, too. And the others that no doubt will become dear."

A brief, quiet pause. She can't let the hope grow too large in her chest. Can't let it become a fully fledged thing, or else it'll become unmanageable. And if things become unmanageable, then she needs to leave. There's no tiny chicken to keep her forcibly steady. Quiet, quiet. The sort of calm from standing in the woods, head resting against a tree trunk. From lying on stone, cool and smooth. From watching water boil slowly.

"...We'll figure it out, won't we? How to do...all of this. It's all solvable."

Living not under siege.