Francesca lowered her eyes. "It stopped hurting a long time ago."

Julian’s gaze, dark and searching, lingered on her. "If it doesn’t hurt anymore, why were you crouched on the street, crying like that? Francesca, you could..."

She interrupted with a bitter question, "Cry in your arms instead? Julian, there’s no room left in there. It’s too crowded."

He opened his mouth to respond, to explain, but in the end, he let it go. What was the point? She ...