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And sometimes she’s glad her heart is half gone, that it’s allowed her to soften her approach a little, because sometimes there are things she must treat with delicacy – something her brash, full heart would not always understand. She can’t cradle her oldest child, she can’t always say the important things, but she can smile, and she can understand.
“Oh, Emma.” She lets out a with a breath, smiling. “She doesn't hate you.”
It's the easiest thing to say, and the easiest thing to truly believe.