She's been here a month or a little more, and if she were someone who knew how to put down roots, she thinks there would be a few tentative ones being torn up right now. Aunt Peggy's arms go around her in a way that's familiar and not all at the same time, and Sharon leans in, closing her eyes and clinging to her aunt, smelling the light scent of perfume and powder that's been so much a part of her life since birth.

This is war. Everyone is used to goodbyes. But that doesn't make them hurt any less.