"Oh, you know, the good old British stiff upper lip," she half-jokes, before, more seriously, "nah, I uh, I had a pretty rough time of it where I was mostly coasting on sheer stubborn force of will to get it all done before I cracked. Luke needed me to be strong enough to get us through it, so... I did. Probably not healthy if I'm gonna be real frank. Not sure how much I slept. Sam helped out a bit, with stuff that needed more than one pair of hands, but then... I dunno. He had big boy lawyer stuff to do and I got on with it. Probably should've asked some other friends."

But she didn't. She never had been great at asking for help, but it was worse then. She figured she just had to put on her big girl pants and do it. Sort out the funeral, close out their various accounts, clear the house and sell it, move to London and get a shitty night job so she could pay for a flat.

Luke was counting on her.

"So, yeah. Probably don't do what I did. I'm most useful as a bad example."