She stepped aside and he slid past her, careful not to touch her.

She closed the door, leaning against it slightly. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of his presence. She led him into the empty living room.

She faced him, her eyes on the floor. She wanted to look at him. She knew she should. But she couldn’t. “Have you made your choices?” she asked softly.

“I had no choice in this,” he whispered. His voice was choked and frightened and desperate. Just like her. So she looked at him.

“You always have a choice.”

“I can’t…”