Some of them aren't the greatest people. And Roland's voice, at the back of her mind: Ye've seen evil, but this Flagg is a step beyond. Gods, she wishes it had been anyone else. She wishes she didn't have to feel like a traitor both ways, for trusting Nadine the one way, and Roland the other. She wishes, almost, that she and Roland had passed each other by at the execution, and she could look at Nadine and smile without feeling she's lying.

Ye chose this. Insisted on it. She has to keep reminding herself of that. Nobody made her be here, nobody but herself. She clears her throat, takes a long drink of the beer in front of her. It tastes terrible.

"'Ponine will, though," she says, quietly. She's got something of a measure of her friend, by now - enough to know she's not the forgiving type. "She's had it hard, too, ye ken that, and... well." And she's like a dog that's been kicked one too many times. Sometimes she'll cringe away, sometimes she'll turn and bite. It feels disloyal to admit to that failing in her friend, but it's not as though it's hard to spot, and Nadine must know it, too. And it's reason enough to explain her hesitation, while she gathers herself to be less suspicious. "But it'll come right, won't it? I'll stick by her, and Julie's got Lloyd, so they're neither of them settlin' alone."

Not that she's sure, from the little time she's spent with Lloyd, that he's much of an improvement on alone.

"How about ye? I've hardly seen 'ee since we arrived. Are ye settling well?"