"I understand," he said softly. "There's nothing I can say but that. She makes a hundred fifteen who have come and gone...for me. I know more than that are on the wall, but just people I care about. You get used to it." Jack shrugged and picked up his cup to blow across the surface of the tea to cool it.

"That doesn't mean it gets easier. It doesn't mean you can predict it, or even that it doesn't hurt. You just...get used to it. I consider it penance. I don't think Catherine thought that was a healthy coping mechanism."