She is sitting in a garden, and a warm breeze tousles her hair. The stone bench is warm from the sun's light, although it is late afternoon. A man is sitting with her, holding her hand. "I just wanted to say that I am so very sorry," he says to her, as if this is something he has said many times to no avail. She looks up at him and smiles. Tears run down her cheeks in twin salty streaks. "I forgive you," she whispers.