Ellie's arm is warm, pressed lightly up against her own. Her eyes are closed while she tells the story. Clarisse listens to her without saying anything.

It's not her story to comment on, but she remembers how young Ellie said she was when this all happened, and Clarisse can't help but think about what she was doing and feeling when she was fourteen. How fucking determined she was to get her dads attention, and then how fucking scared she was when it worked.

"Was he pissed?"

Ares would've been.