"I can hardly, either," Peggy notes, even though she can certainly carry a tune, but actually singing for someone else's entertainment is another thing completely all-together and that's a road she's not sure that she wants to start going down.

She shifts in the bed, squeezing Stella's hand firmly and staring up at her with exhaustion in every part of her, from how she lies to how she looks. "Just don't leave, I'll accept that instead of the singing. You can tell me stories of what's happening."