"Damn you," he whispers. "Damn you completely, you little shit. I never cry. I come in here every day, a hundred times, and I never cry. I never see them and I never turn around expecting them to be there, and then you’re here for one second and all I can think is that they will be right back and it will all be some stupid misunderstanding. They are not dead. They just got on the wrong train. What do you—what can you possibly—want?"