She never expected to be hit so hard - not when she knew she could lose anyone at home, much less here, not when they'd met so few times - but Angela had somehow secured a place in her heart few ever reached, largely without her noticing.

Maybe it was her unflinching acceptance, or her resilient compassion, or the way she made her laugh. Maybe it was the precious rarity of relaxation and sincerity. Regardless, losing it hurt more than she was prepared for.

She's supposed to be prepared for everything.

Angela's words startle a laugh out of Barbara, and it eases the tension gripping her chest, enough that she can speak.

"I...think I'll let you in anyway." She wheels backwards, pulling the door with her. She still can't help but stare, as if Angela will disappear if she takes her eyes off her.