It helps, just a little, that he's curling in closer instead of pulling away or starting to yell. It helps that his words aren't tinged with rage, even if he's clearly upset.

"He-- he s-said he was-- going t'help," she murmurs against his chest, "That he was g-going t'train me. I didn't realize--"

She didn't realize how bad it was. How little Shea's work was about helping the next generation of the Deck; how much more it was devoted to spreading hurt.

"An' now I-- can't stop because 'f I do it'll be-- really bad for-- everyone. H-he doesn't-- like it, when p-people stop showing up."