Sonia watches her hair burn, the smell acrid, burning her nose as the mother and father turn to add their own locks. She wasn't expecting Tucker to offer one of his own, let alone without saying anything -- which wasn't necessarily bad. The look of surprise that flickers over the parents' faces isn't unwelcoming, either. A strange sort of grateful, that a total stranger would honor the death of their child.

Sonia only catches a brief glimpse of the paper before Tucker puts it to flame, and when he closes his hand around hers she gives it a squeeze, a small sign of comfort, of thanks. They could both use it, she thinks.

They're all silent as the offerings burn down, the flame eventually sputtering out, and Sonia murmurs a few last words in Russian before she turns away, giving Tucker's hand a gentle tug.