[ It's one thing for Jefferson to joke and tease and keep a pleasant demeanor when he's having a good day. It's another to face anything... real. Helping Victor pick out gifts for Lucy, that he can do. But anything more, anything resembling being a guardian of sorts (part-time or otherwise), that just sends cold spikes of anxiety through him.
'A good father,' the old woman called him when he offered every last copper he had for a toy for Grace, even though it wasn't enough. It sounded like a mockery then, and he can hear it just as clear now. ]
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'A good father,' the old woman called him when he offered every last copper he had for a toy for Grace, even though it wasn't enough. It sounded like a mockery then, and he can hear it just as clear now. ]
I'm not-- I wouldn't be any help.