Mosi had fallen to her knees, huddled over the ruined snowglobe, frantically trying to put the pieces back together with her bare hands, fingers bleeding from a dozen tiny cuts. She had to fix this, somehow, this thing that she broke, this thing she'd never get back, even as she realised that it was hopeless. Suddenly, a presence kneeling behind her, arms going around her, gentle hands holding her by the wrists, pulling her own away from the sharp glass."What have you done to yourself, Malaika?""Can we fix it?" Mosi demanded, frantic, not caring about her own injuries. "Can we... can we glue it?" Even as she asked, she knew they couldn't. She still needed to hear it."No. Sometimes, when we break something, it can't just be put back together." Mosi, unresisting, allowed herself to be pulled away and brought to the bathroom, stinging soap and water on her cuts, those same gentle hands applying sealing spray.Mosi's voice, uncharacteristically small and timid, had ventured, more a comment than a question: "People can't be fixed when they break either."Thoughtful silence for a long moment, then soft lips kissing her forehead. "No," Nalah agreed, "sometimes they can't. That's why we have to be careful."