[Now that her tiny hands are well wrapped around her cup of tea, Vimes busies himself with opening the carton of the curry. He slides it in front of her and sticks the plastic fork into it. It's not too healthy, but it's hot and soothing. At least, it's what Vimes usually eats whenever he's feeling particularly torn up about something; it tastes like home.]

After you're done with your tea, you should try to eat something, [he instructs. He's about to say how if she can only force a little bit down right now, she can put the rest in the icebox and heat it over the stove for later... but then remembers how small she is.

Maybe he'll write a note to Handmaiden a little later, say he's going to stay here during his shift. There's nothing right about leaving two little girls alone, although he's sure others will be coming to visit her soon. He wraps one arm around her again, and rests his other elbow on the table to prop his head up on his hand. He's rubbish with words, but somehow silence is inefficient.]

It's not much of a comfort, I know, but the thing about people disappearing is... well, it happens. More often than any of us would like, which is to say that it happens in the first place. But taking a page out of your book - [a hopelessly optimistic one, he adds in the privacy of his own mind] - at least we get to meet them at all.