"So you thought leaving without a word was somehow better than telling me to my face?" She looked up at him, trying to grasp onto every tendril of anger she could. Or really any emotion that wouldn't have her a sobbing mess at the drop of a hat. Because she knew once she started crying, she would never stop. "Admittedly, those aren't the types of people I'd want anywhere near Christina, but I am not a wilting flower." It then hit her that she used the present tense when talking of Christina and her face fell. She took a slow, deep breath to try and steady herself. When he put his hand on her shoulder, she looked up at him. "I don't want you to go anywhere. You are all I have left in the world and I don't want to be alone." Her tone was softer, far more vulnerable than he had ever heard it. She lifted a hand and set it over his on her shoulder.

"I did much the same. I just keep thinking I should've woken up or stayed awake or something." It was a grieving mother's desperation talking. Though at the question of the hair, she thought for some moments, trying to sift through the past few days. "I think they did. I believe they said it was white." They had said it probably belonged to a wolf, but Helena wasn't convinced it was merely a wolf. She would have woken up had a wolf invaded her home.