You are a real mum. ( It's weird, sometimes, to look at Sarah and remember she has a kid. She seems as chaotic as Sarissa, sometimes, and then there's other times like tonight when she's the one holding things together.

The words stick in her throat, and she tries to clear it without a good deal of success. ) You're thinking about her. Concerned about her. You want her with you. That's— that's real mum stuff.

( It's edging on too close to things she prefers not to talk about much, and that she definitely has no desire to pile on Sarah now, and Sarissa shrugs. )

I think you're a good sister. Granted, I'm an only child, so. ( A glance at Sarah, a brief grin, and it fades away as she reaches for the ignition and starts the car. ) I wouldn't give praise from me much weight, but.