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“The frost in his eyes is cracking and, behind it, the green of the first buds of spring. "When I was young," he says, "I was afraid of everything. Atreus's hounds, Agamemnon's games, mutilated bodies, angry slaves. Wherever I looked, I feared. I learned to overcome those fears. I had to, or I would have died. But something stayed inside me, a feeling of rootlessness, of floating through life trying not to drown." She listens though she doesn't know that sensation. Every step she has taken since she was a child had a direction. And it brought her here. He stares at her. "But now I know that I belong with you." She closes her eyes and savors the feel of his hand against her own. He doesn't know this, but he gave her a chance too, which no one else did. He told her: Look I am as damaged as you, but here I am.” — Constanza Casati