Eventually her sobs subsided, and she could breathe a little without choking on them. She'd wrapped her arms around Keman somewhere in the process, clinging to him like she wanted to hold him together so he wouldn't disappear too. His shirt was soaking wet beneath her cheek, sort of tacky and gross too. But he was warm, and alive, and that was nice.

She didn't lift her head but she loosed her death grip a little, still trying to breath slowly and evenly. They'd both lost people they loved. What could she do or say to make that better? "...I think I got a lot of snot on your shirt."