[she nods, feeling their shared warmth on her mask, the presence of it.]

And now I can think of a thousand things I'd tell him, if he was here - but those regrets will simply have to stay with me.

[carried behind her, a trail of broken Emilys, who spoke too much or too little, consigned to the fire. nothing ever fitting right. regret, guilt, the past - it burns on. they remain. she keeps it fed.]