[ river ducks her head, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. hope. ]

I have - there are ... pieces. Missing. And some days, I think I have them. Some days, I know -

[ that she doesn't. that they were sliced away and they're not coming back, not ever. river can't be fixed. she can only be managed. ]

But I know I'm me. I know I have fingers and toes and they're mine, even when I don't know they're there. Still River.

[ she looks up then, a bit sheepish. hope is a foreign concept, but river exists in the spaces where concepts and reality blur into colours only she can see. lydia is red, and she burns like the sun. concepts in reality. ]

Even when you forget you hold the match. You're 'Lydia first.'