She sighs. Obviously it makes sense. Obviously. Doesn’t mean she has to like it though. Reluctantly, she holds her hand out for the book.

“It’s not fair, you know? Everything I do and I am the worst. Everything I think I am good at, and no. It’s a lie. I am always the last at anything good. Only I am good if it’s something which ought not be done at all. It’s not fair.”

It’s humiliating, and so frustrating.

“I’m sorry. It ain’t your fault. I just long for a better lot in life, you know?”