[ A tide of misplaced anger swells up in her chest – that Penelope would just lurk there and listen along without giving her the chance to– to turn it off or explain herself, like she was fishing for information or trying to embarrass her, or–

But the anger doesn't last, crashes to shore and turns to something muddier and messier. She sniffs, trying hard not to let Penelope see her face - but at this point, what's one more indignity on top of everything else? ]

It was bad enough to see her last week, but hearing her again... and Emma...

[ The way she says it leaves no room for speculation as to the depths of her heartache. ]

Wh–what could I have ever done to deserve being stuck here and tormented like this...?!