"Yes, I should hate you for it, shouldn't I?" Grandma said, looking at Bernard with red-rimmed eyes. "I should be yelling at you right now for associating with a lunatic who would do this to her fellow woman," she said, thumping her fist feebly against his chest, her gesture looking just so like Marissa's that Bernard's body shook more violently with repressed sobs. "I should curse you and proclaim war on you if anything happens to my daughter, but I can't, I can't, my son, because I know that you wouldn't want any of this to happen. I cannot just see my grief alone when I know that you truly...