When he spoke her name, all she heard was her name and not the tone of disquiet beneath it. She turned back toward him and grasped onto his hands, needing the steadiness in this sea of emotion, and Alan had always been on her side. "Likely," she said, with a exhale shaken with anger. If she hadn't been holding onto Alan, she would have been throwing something fragile crashing across the room. "He's no passive victim."