Another deep sigh breaks his silence as he listens, watching the young woman, and it strikes her just how young she must be. How old she must feel.

His face, thinly veiled by smoke as it is, remains passive; guarded. Only his eyes can't keep up the facade. Maybe their stories are worlds apart, just like they are or seem to be, but he knows some of her pain.

"But that's just the thing, isn't it? You didn't know. You believed you were doing the right thing all along. It isn't what you did that hurts. It's the betrayal of trust."