He hadn't handled this very well. How had he been told when his father died? He didn't entirely remember — just that it was like his heart dropped out of his chest, and then the blur of going home, and the funeral in painstaking detail. (And then — what came after.) Maybe it would be okay if he didn't handle this perfectly, because maybe she wouldn't remember exactly.

(This ignored the problems that they faced that Noble hadn't had with his father's death, and Noble had the clarity of mind to suspect this wouldn't be the most difficult part of the rest of the night. Because they had to cover it up. Didn't they?)

"I have her here," Noble said. He stifled an instinct to gesture with his hand that had dragged along Mrs. Cartwright the corpse, because that seemed too much like behavior in a play. "She — it looks like she hit her head."

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