[At the squeeze, she grips his hand in both of hers. It’s a terrible sound that escapes him; she knows it too well.]
…Yeah.
[There’s a thousand more things to say. Not yet. An echo, barely mouthed, then:] Yeah.
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[At the squeeze, she grips his hand in both of hers. It’s a terrible sound that escapes him; she knows it too well.]
…Yeah.
[There’s a thousand more things to say. Not yet. An echo, barely mouthed, then:] Yeah.