It was hard, and Rita didn't know much better than Nepeta what sort of comfort she needed. There wasn't much of a way for her to know. There was no one for her during the toughest time of her life, and this was just a jarring reminder of that.

But even if she didn't know for sure, what Nepeta was doing felt nice. Not nice in the way a massage might have felt nice, but in a comforting sort of way.

Fortunately, it wasn't long before Rita's sobs quieted and slowed. She still had her face in her hands, but she was beginning to wipe at her face with her sleeves. She didn't bother looking up. She was sure she probably looked like a wreck, and stupid, so she kept her face down.

"I'm sorry, Nepeta," she croaked out, still wiping at her face. "I don't know what's wrong with me."