It took her the better part of an hour to say to Carver what she'd just said to Jesus in four sentences; it had felt like an uphill battle all the way, like holding onto a cliff's edge and feeling her fingers slipping bit by bit every time she gave up a detail.

But now it's what it has been the rest of the time: something that happened, something that's over. She shakes her head as if to clear it, and frowns at him.

"What?"