She freezes for a split second when he hugs her, then pretty much just collapses against him the moment his hand hits her hair. She clutches at him tightly - maybe a little too tight with the new hand, she'll apologize for the fingertip-shaped bruises on his back later.
She wants her Papá. She wants Miguel. So so desperately she wants them. But she has Tommy, and that's almost as good, because he's her friend, and he was scared for her, and he's hugging her, and it's all she can do not to start sobbing right then and there.
She doesn't want the Trailblazers to hear. She doesn't want to break down completely in somewhere that's not safe. But that doesn't mean she doesn't cry.
She shudders in his arms for a moment, clutching him like a lifeline, before she answers.
"No," she says, voice trembling, "pero no está muerto. It's not dead. It could be worse, right?"
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She wants her Papá. She wants Miguel. So so desperately she wants them. But she has Tommy, and that's almost as good, because he's her friend, and he was scared for her, and he's hugging her, and it's all she can do not to start sobbing right then and there.
She doesn't want the Trailblazers to hear. She doesn't want to break down completely in somewhere that's not safe. But that doesn't mean she doesn't cry.
She shudders in his arms for a moment, clutching him like a lifeline, before she answers.
"No," she says, voice trembling, "pero no está muerto. It's not dead. It could be worse, right?"