"You."

The word comes out without hesitation, falling from her lips. She draws her legs up on the cot, knees against her chest, as though this could somehow protect her. But she has no armor here.

"A friend. A confidante." Trust, a promise of something better, a safehaven. "I lost you the moment you left. Or maybe I never really had you to begin with, if you were always planning to leave. I don't know."