[She shakes her head, because she can and will make promises however she damn pleases, because she's not ready to concede that her fate is entirely dependent on an omnipotent being's whims yet, but she doesn't argue. If he'll go with it, she doesn't need to.

Tess leans in more just to hear him better.]

If this place grants wishes then we have to believe it'll grant this one. That's all I'm saying.

[Wishful thinking. She looks down at their laps.]

And neither of us were ever any good at nice words or saying anything comforting. I'm sorry I can't hold you, Joel.