Somehow it's never been like this. It's come close, there have been times when it was nearly this kind of relief, but this is a new level he's reached and to the extent that he can do anything anymore, he's exulting in it, the pain in his throat spiderwebbing through his nerves, core of him a warm bloom of dark joy.

He knows he has to be quiet. He can't wake the girls, can't frighten them. But it's almost impossible to hold back. He shouldn't even be able to. He wants to cry out, to let it all go, but it's still just that helpless, broken sound. But it's enough.

He can't believe he's actually still getting to have this. Except he can.