Bjorn's POV
I place an arm around her, pulling her close. I stay silent, finishing my tea as she sobs on my shoulder. When Astrid died, I cried, too. Though no one saw or knew. I know there is nothing wrong with it, but grief is a private thing. And tears can help.
Finally, Seraphina stops, sniffles, and rubs her eyes. I lend her my sleeve so she can wipe her nose on it.
"Sorry," she tells me after.
"No need to apologize."
"And thank you," she adds with a final sniffle. "I think I am ready to go to Africa now."
I nod. I had suspected as much. "That is good." And it is, even if I cannot be there to help her.
But I am not sure I am ready to let her go.
"I have to find out who I am," she says. "I have to find out the truth about my past and my present in order to decide my future."
"
