"It sneaks up like that," Spencer confirms, and he hates that he knows this. He hates that he has friends who know this, hates that life can be so cruel, hates that this lovely woman next to him is crying and he can't do much of anything to make her feel better. "I think-- Well, I have to believe that it gets easier. I was attacked at home, in my library, and I haven't been in there since it happened."

It had been the only place he'd felt truly safe after finding his mother in the backyard, body cold and eyes vacant, and he shivers when he's hit with another blast of the ocean breeze. "We're allowed to feel defeated," he tells her, nodding as if he's trying to convince himself of that very thing. "We're allowed to stumble on our way to recovery, nobody's meant to withstand this much pain and still be expected to carry on like nothing's happened."

He's woken up shaking in Joel's arms more than once, and he expects he'll do it again.

"I don't know how long it takes before it stops. I don't know if it'll ever stop." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug and sighs. "What helps me is knowing I have help. If you-- I know we don't know each other well but sometimes it's nice to know there's someone out there who understands."