The fire flickers in Ivy’s eyes. “I told you how I saw you. Why your important to me. I’m sorry if I didn’t take the chance to get to know you better, but you were the first person I trusted when I was fresh off the streets. Whether you knew or cared about my past doesn’t matter, but you saw me and you weren’t worried, scared about who I was or who I could be, or even how I found you. You trusted me. For the others you knew about healing and you always had ambrosia and nectar, and you often helped me to cook or heal. I don’t care if your upset with me now, I’m not giving up on you.” 

“We all feel like secondary characters to someone, even in our own lives,” Winter supplies quietly.