"I like long stories. I'm holding you to that." She'd been interested in hearing his stories from the start, but he had his ghosts, too, and she wasn't going to ask him to talk about them. That wasn't fair.

She realized that she didn't need to calm down, she needed to let go. And he had her, he said so, so maybe it was okay for her to be weak this time. Just this once. She was tired of wearing her brave face.

So she pulled herself up smaller against him, curled her fingers into the fabric of his coat. She didn't cry loudly, didn't actually make a sound at all, but she stopped trying to hold back the tears and just let them fall instead. They wet her cheeks, and probably his shirt, too, but she'd apologize for that later.

"My--" She wanted to say 'dad', because Robert Queen had always been her dad. But that would probably sound confusing. "My step-dad died in a boat wreck when I was a kid. We thought Ollie did, too, but he came back. I watched my mom get murdered. My other brother died before I ever learned he was my brother, which was Malcolm's fault. A lot of things are Malcolm's fault." She paused and pulled in a breath that was shakier than she wanted it to be. "I wish I had happy things to tell you."