"They were called Widows. Children I helped train to learn how to be assassins and spies, a long time ago. Those three were Anya, Mitra, and Yelena." They sound both sad and fond, at the same time. The memory of those kids was their first layer of understanding of what love felt like. "Good kids. Or they tried to be, anyway, as good as they could be in a place like that."
no subject