During the day, she can control it; sink even deeper into her job and avoid indulging in self-pity. Concentrate on the job at hand and hide behind the shell of what everyone thinks she is, with her hardened voice and cold eyes. She can pretend She doesn't remind her of herself when she was little (traveling from one freak-farm to another, kept wrapped in winter clothing even on the hottest of days), having to keep the tears inside, never showing weakness, always holding strong. It's the innocents of Her that Gwen sees and is afraid to touch, afraid to break what can't be unbroken. Because she doesn't want the girl to end up like her.

But at night, she still dreams of brown hair hiding a soft face and clear eyes, of a time before Denzel, and a light giggle coming from her lips when Gwen curses over nothing. She dreams of a world when Fred doesn't look at her with disgust and tell her to go to hell.

And, maybe, if she's careful not to fall asleep, she won't have to wake up to disappointment every morning.