[ Her hand is so small. This hurts, this - digs at him, in him, like a knife. She's not Mercy, and in a way, he knows her better than he knows Mercy, thinks of her as the kind of daughter he wants Mercy to be. The connection there is undeniable and unshakable and it makes it worse.

He smiles a little when she jokes, anyway. ]

About how I feel about you sleeping forever. [ Royce murmurs. ] I would miss you. [ Quieter: ] I'd cry, and the tears would turn to icicles at the bottom of my eyes.