[ Sinking into her mother's embrace, Emma comes apart, tears falling freely in a steady stream over her cheeks, dampening Snow's shirt sufficiently.
It's hard to think about anything other than how undeserving of this support, of her mother's sorrow and sympathy she is. All Emma can think about is what a piece of shit she is to not be able to stop herself from killing the one person who'd never abandoned her. ]
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it right. I have to make it right.
no subject
It's hard to think about anything other than how undeserving of this support, of her mother's sorrow and sympathy she is. All Emma can think about is what a piece of shit she is to not be able to stop herself from killing the one person who'd never abandoned her. ]
I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make it right. I have to make it right.