"Nothing," he says, looking at her and then he reaches for her face again, his fingers skimming her cheek. He wants her to look at him, he hates seeing her look down at the floor like this. "You didn't do anything."

This strange city had done something to her. In that sense, Lincoln thinks Victra has just as much right to be hurt as he does, maybe even more. It had been done against her will, some strange transformation he still can't make sense of. But maybe there's no making sense of this place. Not when it does something like that.

"I know you're not like that," he says. "I know it was something done to you. You don't have to do anything to make it up to me."