“You have to let it go, baby,” she said, shaking her head. It wasn't meant in any condescending way, just the natural tone she took when Taweret was trying to give comfort and advice at the same time. “That shit's a poison. It will ruin you. Anger has a time and a place, but once that time is gone... you have to let it go or you risk dropping yourself to the level of those who hurt you most.”
She stood, moved into the kitchen for a quick moment, but kept talking on her way. “Thing is, no one will ever truly understand exactly what you feel. Some may come close... there are a handful of others, like you, who had their children taken from them in horrible ways... but you all are few and far between in our world.” She opened a cabinet next to the sink and pulled out a brown bottle. “Others may try to understand, some may come close... they may even really feel pain, but,” she paused, returning to the table, “the closest most can get is sympathy.”
The bottle was set on the table -Kahlua. This called for coffee and booze. At least Taweret thought so, and she was not shy about pouring a bit into her cup.