He's been silent and drawn since they talked with Hank, and it's beginning to wear on her.

At night, she wraps her arms around him, longing to bridge the gap between. After a long moment, he returns the gesture, sliding around with infinite tenderness.

His voice is rough into her hair. "Anna..."

She wants to melt into that voice, his embrace, but she cannot let it lie. "What's wrong, Remy?"

He stiffens, but she reaches up, caressing him.

"Please," she whispers. She would rather hear whatever terrible thing he's feeling than let him spare her.

She cannot bear his silences.