Maybe Quentin or Billy or Jem would know what to say to her, young people who are mostly happy with this place. There are bad parts, but it isn't the end of the world. People here won't let it be. Joan has seen more kindness in the depravity of this isolated city than anywhere in her home. But her tongue is heavy trying to explain that, and the words stick in her throat.

She reaches out to the girl on instinct, thinking to pat her back, but stops short. Nobody wants that. They walk toward the city in companionable silence.