Melpomene closed her eyes, barely taking notice of Thalia's words but hearing her voice, anxious and soft, breaking across her like gentle waves. She felt the warmth of her arm, a warmth she rarely got from Urania, and leaned a little more into it, her hand weakly grasping at Thalia's top. Few people had held her since Alan had left her, and she craved the comfort even though she knew nothing anyone else could provide would be as restful as death.
Holding her son in her arms again would do it, but that possibility grew more and more impossible with every passing moment. He was gone, like her long-ago mortal daughter was gone. Melpomene breathed in a breath so deep her lungs shook heavily on the exhale. "It was always going to end this way," she rasped, eventually. "Being an immortal mother of mortal children. There is no other end but loss."