keep

her—had left

her—had left far greater wounds on her psyche than she'd realized.
She knew that her therapist had told Anton, after it was over, that Berry was perhaps intrinsically the sanest individual she'd ever treated. But "sanity" was not a magic shield against the universe's cruelties. It was simply a tool. The same tool she would now spend decades using, to do what she could to heal a new nation.
She turned her head and looked up at Jeremy, standing to her right. He avoided her eyes, for a few seconds. Then, sighing, looked down at her.
"All right, lass. You were right. Although if that damn Solarian captain doesn't return the Hope . . ."
"You'll do nothing," she said. Proclaimed, rather.
"Blast it, you're getting far too good at this proclamation business," he muttered.
Berry restrained her smile. Indeed, she even managed to keep her face stern and solemn. "You still haven't agreed to the other. I know you, Jeremy. You don't forget things. You also keep your word. So the only reason