Sonia hasn't stopped crying, but her shoulders slacken, her fixed stare tired and disconsolate. Should she be comforted by this, that he had fallen into genuine friendship despite his failure of loyalty, or should she be disgusted that he led her along by that gaping lie of omission? She feels both all at once, and she looks for a moment like she may actually be sick, like she may lurch off her cot and dive for that privacy screen. She realizes she's having trouble breathing, dizzy from it, and rocks back on her cot.

"All traitors are thieves by nature," she echoes, lips numb. "That's what Count Piotr said. You gave me something, Byerly, and then -- and then you took it away." She unclenches her hands at last, as though she can feel it slipping right through her fingers.