"I was barely twenty, still set on the path my parents had mapped out, still--" she frowns. "Still under Gerhardt's thumb. Carlisle did a lot of talking, mud slinging I suppose you'd call it, before the bout. Said stuff about the family...my sisters. For once I was happy to fight. I was too young--too stupid--to keep my temper. Gerhardt used that and--" She sighs. "That's all excuse, isn't it? What matters is the final result. I nearly killed the man. He was in a coma for six months. He...recovered, but he was never the same after. He left the Deck."

It's not the same. She knows it isn't. "You need to be here to be godfather to our babies. That's a life long commitment." What would she have done if she'd lost him, too?