Sansa shook her head. "This was a bad idea. I should leave," she mumbled to herself and turned away to go back. When she was only 3 or 4 name-days, every time she had a nightmare, she used to sneak into Jon's or Robb's bed and bad dreams would go away. But she grew up and stopped doing that, knowing that it wasn't proper anymore, and Jon was to be avoided because her mother and her septa taught her that bastards were untrustworthy. Now she was ugly, scarred, broken, and used, and her brother had seen it all. No man would ever want her anymore, not even her brother. Ramsay had made sure of that.