"I'll talk to her," Jo starts, though there's a certain edge to her voice that suggests there's a 'but' coming, which it does. "And if she can respect that I'd like to try and see it from both sides, then maybe it'll do us both some good."

But she's not interested in anyone trying to coerce her to take back what she's already promised, just like she can't tell anyone else that they have no right to be angry. They're coming from different places, that's all.

"No, we're not," she tells him, cementing that as the one thing they can agree on. "But maybe just like you don't think you can afford to be anything but angry, maybe I can't afford to believe that someone can't change." She gives him a rueful look, and for all her determination, there's something bitter there. Hope has no place in this conversation, not really-- but she's lost too many friends already. Maybe she's just too stubborn to admit she could lose another, or maybe her expectations aren't all that high anymore. Maybe she's just been let down too many times to care. She's not sure she knows which it is.

"You could be right, but a big part of me really, really wants to keep believing that you're wrong. I want to believe he knows better now. I think he does."