Noctisardor Bypass john 13:20

in truth, heda flinched. not in fear of hurt, but in surprise that amadeo should be so warm, so welcoming.
he assured her of god's love.
the golden eyes that beheld him were at once misted with a girl's broken tears, limned in a hope she was shocked to experience, wide and desperate with hope that god would once more catch her shattered wings to his bosom and recreate her.
this time she would listen.
this time she would obey.
i am a widower as well, amadeo had said, knowing only in the tense heda had used that caracal was no more. his even voice forced her on proverbial knee to that threshold of acceptance where anselm had stabbed her once more.
"did it get easier to miss her," she heard herself ask in a cracking whisper, not quite a question but a statement of despondency, for she had to believe this inability to draw a breath would be removed from her.
heda almost told him about The Clock.
its ticking had strangely muted for now, but she could still hear it, still picture day becoming night becoming day and the whirl of seasons.
until.
tears were falling like silent pearls to the ground between her paws, upon where amadeo had extended a single kindness to heda and she felt herself stricken forlorn by the heavy breadth of her own sins.
undeserving.