"And he's good at it," she breathed into his shirt. "He had me fooled. I just don't...I don't...understand why he was so hateful. So angry at me. I only wanted to help, Mr. Dresden, I only wanted to help him."
She pressed her face tighter against him, crying again for a bit, until she was too tired to cry anymore. Then she simply clung to him, digging her fingers into his clothes like a frightened kitten.