River traced the creases on her brother's face, grooves far deeper than should be seen on someone so young. He shushed her when she tried to turn her thoughts into words, claiming long shifts in the trauma wing to be the sole cause. He lied. She knew before he opened his mouth and then saw it confirmed in his refusal to meet her eyes. She'd done this to him. First by leaving, then the notes, then the rescue that had turned them into outlaws. She leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead, trying to smooth the lines away.