She turned her gaze to him and said, "I want my mother..." In a way, she was still a child, yearning for her parents. But she also had to grow up, and fast... The child in her warred with the adult. "I want my father too... And my brother... And Bess and Alfred and Johnny..." Her voice was wooden, hollow. "If I let you close, if I let Lord Gordon close, if I let Viktre close... If I dare to care about anyone, they all disappear into a cloud of smoke." Her voice was ragged, her eyes unseeing, her breathing shallow. "I'm so frightened, Dr. Wells."