"No, Craw," she said, shaking her head as her fingers curled in his shirt. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."
She looked down at him, her brows furrowed. "I've tried it before. It doesn't work," she said, tilting her head slightly.
She hesitated, looking down at him, her hand coming up to brush his hair back. "No, Francis. I know what the stuff is, and I don't want it."
"No, I don't," she said, her voice sounding as if she were trying to be encouraging. "I don't, see? I'm alright. We should be discharged really soon, and I'll be fine."