Clio was so tired. She was sick of nightmares and sick of fear and sick of guilt. She reached up to cup his face in her hands gently. "You're not going to learn how to be open with that stuff all at once," she said gently. "It's okay. I'm just saying- I'm too scared to- I'm too afraid to be of much help to you. I need to be somewhere Lucifer doesn't know. I can get writing done. Commune with some sheep. Then I can come back less afraid and we can work on this talking thing? I'm too afraid to see my own daughter. That's- I can't keep going like this and neither can you."