It's a gamble. If you're wrong, is it worth the price?

The question was the incessant anchor that kept Irene from breaking the rules. Irene knew now the implications, the possibilities that rose in the ruptured reality of other worlds, why things had to be the way they were. Klement had gotten that through to her well enough, but damn it, it still hurt.

Irene wrapped her arms gently around him right back. "I'm sorry," she said gently. "I'm sorry you had to see that firsthand, baby. I'm sorry." And the fact that he could forgive them, it amazed her, but she supposed it didn't surprise her. Not at all. The kid could forgive just about anything, that much she could sense. All the goodness, the light in the aer he carried, that had always been apparent from day one.

Maybe that was what had drawn her to him to begin with, the chance to protect that shining light.

If only because his own world sure as hell didn't.

She drew back from him.

"I'd say you're right, there. It's so... good to see you again. I think we could make cinnabunnies too, since I've been practicing with those." Irene smiled. "I've been missing my baking partner."