It was a practical measure, the cutting of her hair. With the length it had been, the time to care for it had been greater than she could manage in her current state, and it had been too telling of her former self. Elaborate hairstyles had no place in this world of hard work, and she no longer held a position of any significance to anyone. It was better this way. Easier. Even if it is another constant reminder of what she has lost.

She welcomes that touch on her back, a physical reminder that she isn't alone, at least not in this moment. He isn't a phantom come to haunt her the way Anakin does. Obi-Wan is flesh and blood and he came back to--

Lowering herself down onto the thin bed, she looks up at him with apologetic sorrow written across her expression. "Obi-Wan, I'm sorry," she says, her heartbreak bleeding into every syllable. "I've been so focused on my own pain, I've forgotten about yours." She isn't the only one who lost everything.