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Graham takes his eyes off his colleagues for a moment, then, out of the corner of his eye, notices Kylah reaching toward a building with her delicate, bare hand. No! Splinters! he thinks, but before he can warn her, he realizes he's too late. Again. Dammit, he can see the moment from almost twenty years as if it were yesterday. Elizabeth was playing in a sunny, idyllic field back on Earth, as happy as only a child with unshaken confidence that her parents would never let anything hurt her could be. Graham had let himself be distracted for only a moment, but it was enough for her to brush her tiny finger against a old dry fencepost. Her cry still hunts his dreams, as do her her big, teary eyes as she looked up at him as if to say "Daddy, why did you let the wood hurt me?" Later, Jane had said nothing--but she didn't need to. Graham could imagine what she would have said if she weren't kinder to him than he deserved: if that fence had been an Orion pirate, our daughter would be dead. And he knew she'd have been right.