You do. I don't. She worked on reining herself in, a forcible effort. She wasn't yet steady when he was done morphing, ragged edges to what she felt that she was valiantly, methodically packing away and in.

She was technically ignoring him by then, trying to make those raw edges less raw. Her fear and embarrassment were circling around on each other, along with a colder fear, and a burgeoning sense of resolve.

Something must be done.