When he speaks of Ypres, Mina can't help but think of their son -- their beautiful boy who had almost died at Ypres and probably should have, rather than returning to England with septic wounds and a terrified mother. The sins of his father -- abandonment -- so much less than the sins of a selfish, lonely mother.

She feels him sit down and she moves to tuck close to him; even after all these years, her head finds that same spot on his shoulder. "You can't die?" she asks, seeking confirmation that she understood him correctly. He doesn't smell of vampire, she notes. Doesn't have that undercurrent of death clinging to him. But truly, that revelation is so much less important to her than the fact that he's here. He's alive.