[One of her brows lifts and she tilts her head, giving him a quizzical look. The boy speaks of a bad dream as if it's reality and, more than anyone, she knows better than to dismiss a child's fears as nothing. When he squirms away, she pockets her handkerchief and offers her hand to him.]

That was cruel of them to say. I don't believe a word of it. You wouldn't cry if you really were what they say you are, would you? A bad guy wouldn't have the heart for that.