"How about breakfast for dinner? Since it's our only option."

She felt like a child cradled against his chest, warm and safe and protected. It wasn't unlike the way Robert had comforted her after a nightmare or the way Ollie had hugged her and reassured her any time it felt like everything was going so wrong. It also wasn't totally unlike the way Roy used to wrap her up and kiss her head and let her cling to his shirt.

"Sometimes I don't know that I have stayed sane," she said quietly. After all, she was seeing the ghost of the friend she had no memory of killing. She was weighted down by confusion and guilt and anger and it all felt jumbled and cluttered.

Crying was helping, though. Talking was helping. Jack was helping. Maybe Oliver would've been the more logical choice to turn to for this, but she found herself having a harder time with showing weakness around Ollie after learning just how strong he was. She felt like she had to try to match him stride for stride now. But she didn't feel that way with Jack.

"Ollie says that Malcolm wasn't always bad. But it's hard to see him as anything besides a murderer and a liar."