Slowly, River's hand drops back to her lap. With the light-studded cord tangling through her fingers, this time.

She nods a little.

(River's not good, any more, at pretending everything's normal. At pretending anything.

And River can't fix things, far too often. Most of the time.

And River keeps on learning that she can't keep people. One way or another.

But sometimes you can fix a little, and sometimes people stay after all, and all the time it's even worse to not try. And she's trying.

But all the love in the world doesn't make it hurt less for any of them.)