[ her smile is wane, shallow and pale, like the last light of a crescent moon after days of increasing darkness. ]

As long as we have... somehow, it's hard to think like that. It's felt so short...

But, even that was time enough for—

[ her speech falters, and her false smile departs. the pause, the stagger is obvious, and when she turns her face, embarrassment is the cloak to cover truth. ]

—Ah. I suppose it doesn't matter now.