Despite the warmth of Adam's body curled around her, she is very cold. She thinks of her mother, of Nicholas, and it takes all her strength to push the thoughts away. Tiny hairs on her arms stand up and bristle underneath the covers. Small changes in the rhythm of his breathing, a cold draught running down the back of her neck. The whole of the universe outside, the dark and lightening sky sweeping out far beyond everything she can see. She feels her consciousness shifted brutally back and forth from the minute to the immense. And above it all, a tremulous sense of dread, that she has started something that she may not be able to finish, or that when it does finish will teach her things that she never wanted to know.