Ford had been a little drunk when he'd received Noble's letter, but there probably wasn't anything that could have sobered him up faster. Noble had already done everything that could be done by the time he arrived, but Ford couldn't shake the restless feeling that they ought to be doing more. He couldn't blame Mama and Grace for wanting to linger as late as they could downstairs tonight, but he was relieved when they finally did go to bed. When they were all in the same room panicking together the atmosphere had felt thick with it; now at least he could hear himself think.

Not that it mattered when there was nothing they could do.

"She'll be alright," Ford said mechanically, not because he believed it but because it was the thing you were supposed to say.

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