Rachel reached for his hand, but was afraid to grab it and tucked it against her ribs instead, both of her hands wrapped around her. She could feel her side straining with each sob or laugh or whatever mad noise she was making, and pressed her hands harder against her bones, like if she squeezed hard enough so could keep it all in. "Me too," she said, her breath in shallow pants because if she breathed too deep she'd trigger more sobs. "Don't know what to do, I mean. And want to make you feel better. Both of those things. But I don't know how."