Molly nods, though knowing that has to be the case — if there's anyone she can trust to be honest with her about this, she thinks, it's Russell — doesn't slow the racing of her heart, almost painful in her chest. It's as if there's still something hanging overhead, and she finds herself thinking back through what she's said, awful as it is, wanting to make sure she hasn't missed any details. It took practically no time at all for her life, not to mention her physical state, to get so fucked up, but it feels as if so much as happened, and all of it is at once both entirely too present and not there at all, distant, like things she's remembering through a fog. When the only thing she can control right now is how this part of it goes, she can't help needing to get it right.

"Okay," she says, still holding on to him, his presence just about the only thing that's keeping her anchored. "But if you need anything else, you'll let me know?" She opens her mouth again after speaking, meaning to bite her lip, but catches herself just in time. "I just want to help."