Leah studied the small gift in her hands. A token, really. Inexpensive bordering on cheap. Certainly not a burden to the giver, requiring more thought than coin. Nevertheless, she wanted—needed—it, and she absolutely hated the fact that she had to ask for it. Anyone paying attention, the ultimate gift, would have known. Anyone truly committed to her happiness would—should—have known. She shook it. Its heft felt hollow, contrived, desperate; not fulfilling as it would have been if spontaneous. Sighing, she flung it against the wall. Even its physical impact disappointed her. "Too little. Too late."