"I know, duck," Marcus answers as he pours them both a cup of coffee, setting them down on the table before he slides into the chair beside her. He's not angry with her, he hopes that's clear enough, hopes Charlie told her, too, that he had only been worried about her and wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Sugar?" he asks, nodding at her coffee. He takes his own black and he pulls his mug closer, holding it between his hands to warm them.

They have to talk. He's seen the book and she'd told him in the truck on the way home about the memories that had come up when she'd fainted, and there's so much there, he knows she needs to talk about it. He can't rush her through it, though, it has to come up in her own time.