[ Owen frowns, though it's lost on her, considering her postured – closed off, vulnerable. Far removed from the Claire who commanded a veritable zoo yielding little more than a spreadsheet and a cup of coffee.

But trauma does that to a person, he thinks.

He closes the space between them with a careful shift, his hip pressing against hers, and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. Still with that same gentle sort of voice, ]

I know you think this is something you can manage on your own, but it's not. And you don't have to.

It's been weeks, Claire. Have you even given yourself a chance to just— stop and breathe?