A sob caught in her throat as her friend voiced exactly what she was thinking, what she had been thinking, saying, for months now. There had been so much time spent to think about how it should have been, stretching right back to before war. Those peaceful last years of school, the summer they had spent traipsing around the continent together, everything bright and sparkling and overly real. Teenage dreams and ferocious hope and all the deep promises of friendship that assured them they wouldn't ever be left stranded as the perils of adulthood loomed. They couldn't have anticipated the real perils, couldn't have known then just exactly what hurt the world was capable of inflicting. Couldn't have known that being stranded without each other wasn't so much choice, but the inevitable result of tragedy.
"None of it's fucking fair," she cried, her voice thick with grief. For those young women they had been, for Trinity's life, for her's, for everything that had happened that wasn't supposed so. She felt reduced down to that teenage self now, all that resentment and upset that had been bubbling under the surface pouring out now that she was back with her.
There was little else she knew how to do but keep clinging to her, holding tight, terrified they might lose each other again.