Besca took the brush from Quinn with a nod, and led her to the couch. She stood behind, pulling Quinn’s curtain of hair over the end, and got to work. Long, easy strokes, pausing when she reached a knot to straighten it out gently. She still hesitated, still made mistakes here and there, she was certainly much better at it now than she had been before—even if she couldn’t quite manage the braid yet.

“[color=gray]Deelie told me about lunch,[/color]” she said, and her tone was very deliberate. She’d had time to think, and time to make sure she didn’t convey even an ounce of disappointment or frustration. Only measured concern, and understanding. “[color=gray]She wanted me to tell you she loves you, and that she’s still proud of you. I am too.[/color]”

Finishing up, Besca set the brush aside and came around the couch. She knelt down in front of Quinn and took her hands. Small, and there was a cold there that she couldn’t [i]feel[/i], but that she knew anyway. She’d been thinking about this, too. 

“[color=gray]You’re Quinnlash. That’s who you are, that’s [i]what[/i] you are. If I have to remind you of that every single day, I will, because it’s true. You are not a [i]thing[/i], you’re a person.[/color]” She reached up, gently thumbed the dried tear streaks on her face. Smiled. “[color=gray]You’re one of the most important people in the world to me. You’ll never be anything less than that.[/color]”

She wanted nothing more than to keep Quinn here, to just let her [i]be[/i] and decompress, but it wasn’t her call. Patting the girl’s cheek, Besca got up and went to grab her coat from the kitchen counter. 

“[color=gray]Alright hun, we’re due at the elevator in a few minutes. I’m gonna be right with you the whole time; I’ve been on the set before, it’s not too big. I’ll be right off-screen, I’ll even stand behind Mona.[/color]”