Postcards from Three Pines: GLASS HOUSES
The look of pain she saw now wasn’t new, and wasn’t physical. It had always been there,
in Gamache’s eyes, like an astigmatism that meant he saw things slightly differently from the rest of them.
He saw the worst of humanity. But he also saw the best. And she was relieved to see that the decency remained. Stronger, even, than the pain. Stronger than ever.