[ Clara doesn't care either, but she does nod against the other woman at her words. He knew he was going to die at Christmas, one way or another. When she finally pulls back, she's able to sniffle and compose herself enough to speak. ]

He tried to make me go, he tried to force me away from him. I don't think he wanted me to see—I couldn't let him be alone.

[ And she's glad now that she hadn't, that she got to see that silly, perfect face one more time. ]