It's too much. She hates that Ellie is the one to see her like this but who else is she supposed to go to instead?

Abby shivers, and blinks once, and then she's crying, almost silently. Ellie reaching for her arm to start with provides a nauseating tingle of relief. She doesn't want to be left alone down here, in the dark. The thought of that really scares her.

She sniffs. She says thickly, "They kept us in dog cages when we weren't all in the cells together," and stoppers up again with a shuddering gulp, touching her braid, drawing it over her shoulder.

Her body doesn't feel like her own. It is, but in the nightmare she was brittle. She was blistered, and hollow. That's what she can't get out of her mind: how it felt, living like that.

It hurt.