"The Man in White visited us," she murmurs, eyes dragging back on the ground with her feet, arms tightening. "I heard him talking to Mama, talking about things I wasn't supposed to hear. She laughed, but it wasn't a real laugh. It was the kind of laugh she makes when she doesn't think something's really funny but knows she has pretend like it is." She imitates it - an empty, hollow sound that, to someone perhaps not in-tune or uninterested, would sound like a genuine burst of amusement. "Papa saw me watching through the open doorway. I asked him why people fight. He said he thinks it's because people are unhappy, and they don't agree how to make things better. I told him they might agree if they stopped fighting." Her voice, which was small and childish, transforms into something older - more adult, more lucid. "Why do you think people fight, Bodhi?"