"Theo," he sighed, "Love, you're being terribly cryptic. Tell me what's on your mind so that I may better remedy your troubles."

Her laugh, hollow as it was, graced his ears, "You can't fix this, Matthias." She shook her head quietly and closed her eyes, as if the thought of it pained her. When she opened them again, they were glossy with tears.

She couldn't just tell him. She couldn't, for some reason, her tongue wouldn't work with her lips. Quietly, very quietly, she pulled back her sleeves so he could see the bruises on her wrists.

It was a subtle movement, one the Puddifoot staff wouldn't notice, and was better than saying the word 'rape' aloud. Her blue eyes moved upward to watch his face, hoping he got what she was trying to say.