Trina closes her eyes, counts to three, then five, and then thirteen before she opens them again.

"This is why my family doesn't talk about things," she says. "We're really, really bad at it.

"Nothing we are talking about here, or not talking about, or talking about badly here, is your fault. I know that, you know that, hell, even Logan knows that."

And perhaps, she thinks, but doesn't say, perhaps the issue is that she needs, a little desperately, for someone to say the words 'I understand' to her.