He paused, thinking. He had mentioned anger, and he felt anger some of the time, but now most of what he was feeling was... sad. Because there wasn't really anything to be done about it. It had happened. They had both suffered too much.

And now they had a chance to build something new. He would protect that, just as he had always protected Eleanor when she was too small to protect herself.

He reached across the table and took her hand again, something fiercer in it now. "You are really mine," he said, voice low and firm. "You're my daughter. In every way that matters. I will never be sorry for having met you."