[ I did, Mary thinks, but doesn't voice it, because she'd stopped after that. Coming back to an empty house and a cheerful drawing that she'd never know whether her mother had seen it or not-- she'd torn it up after that, listlessly and miserably.
It's never an easy memory to recall, but it doesn't choke her as much to talk about it. Maybe because there was no pressing, suffocating silence around her anymore. She could talk about things, and there would be people to listen.
The shame still clogs her throat, and she keeps her eyes resting on the ground, even as she takes in Rapunzel's tiny words. She's not brave enough to look up, nor does she think she can ask about it, so she releases a shaky breath instead. ]
just perfectly normal bonding
It's never an easy memory to recall, but it doesn't choke her as much to talk about it. Maybe because there was no pressing, suffocating silence around her anymore. She could talk about things, and there would be people to listen.
The shame still clogs her throat, and she keeps her eyes resting on the ground, even as she takes in Rapunzel's tiny words. She's not brave enough to look up, nor does she think she can ask about it, so she releases a shaky breath instead. ]
I'm sorry.