It's a nice sentiment. John's expression draws slightly, shadowed with something weary and dark, at she can't imagine a world where anyone can help her. It doesn't really lighten at the pep talk, the quiet belief that anything can happen because the alternatives are too bleak to bear. That one good ending must promise the possibility of every other.

Around here, it's always the same tune: people say rebirth and renewal, but what they mean is that every wound will heal without a scar. No fire, no flood, no ashes for the phoenix— no life you have to trade for a fresh start— just a blind hope that it all stops hurting, even while everything else stays the same.

Their time is up. God looks tired.

"Some burdens," he says, "are too heavy to cast off. You just learn to bear the weight."