"Guilt is a woman and she's walking on her knees.
Grief is a woman too, but all she does is sleep."

- Amrita Chakraborty

"It isn't your fault."

It's so easy to say.  Four words that Ellie-Marie hears on a practically daily basis,  from either her therapist or the mantras she's forced to repeat in the mirror.  They don't mean anything anymore.  Not now.

She feels vacant as the world seems to bustle around her,  paramedics and officers swarming the area.  Mom and Dad are talking by someone's car.  Buffy is weeping.  Mindy is shaking.

She's vacant.

Tara isn't taking her silence for an acceptable answer.  The only thing Ellie can feel is two gentle hands cupping her cheeks,  turning her head until they're face to face.  Against herself and all her hurt Ellie lets out a sigh of relief,  finding comfort in the face she's come to love so much.

"Ellie,"  Tara says,  voice firm.  "It's not your fault."

She wishes that were true.