Short and late, lo siento.
Savina’s tears were a clear and constant reminder of the physical and emotional pain that freshly plagued her. While Ehno could sympathize with her torment, he could only imagine the extent to which her pain must reach. Her quiet sobs and strained words made that perfectly clear to him. Sympathy was clear on his features, sorrow mixing and deepening his expression as the words sunk in. The death of a child. There could be no greater terror for a parent than that. His sister did not deserve such a torment. The boy Denali didn’t deserve to have his life cut short, either.
He slowly shook his head at her words of self-blame. “You could not have known that this would happen. No one could have.” Ehno himself could have never imagined that such a terrible tragedy would befall their family. It would take a god to foresee such unexpected events, and the Marinos were just as mortal as the other residents of Nova Scotia. Fate had seen fit to remind them of that, in her increasingly cruel ways. “You did what you thought was best.” He knew his words would likely do little to console her, no matter the truth that may lie behind them. Such was the behavior of true, bone-deep grief.