Quinn went quiet. Her head pitched down again, looking at her feet as her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt.

[i][color=skyblue]Remember: they can't hurt you now.[/color][/i]

She'd thought the same. She'd thought that she was safe from them, far enough removed that it could only get better. But that...that wasn't really true, was it?

"[color=ffe63d]You're wrong, Deelie,[/color]" she said, in a voice that she seldom used. She sounded resigned sometimes. She sounded scared, or worried, or in pain. These were all voices that she used, and not uncommonly. But very rarely did she sound so [i]defeated.[/i] "[color=ffe63d]They can still hurt me. They still are.[/color]"

She lapsed into silence again, an awkward quiet falling over the table as she tried and mostly failed to organize her scattering thoughts. When she spoke again, she seemed almost surprised that she was talking, confused by her own voice.

"[color=ffe63d]When I—[/color]" She swallowed heavily, dropping a half-eaten piece of chicken back into the basket. "[color=ffe63d]When I visited Roaki that first time, I...[/color]" More seconds that felt like minutes yawned in front of her.

"[color=ffe63d]I didn't want people to listen in, so I...closed the door behind me. So when I went to leave—[/color]" Her shoulders started quaking gently, her voice followed suit. "[color=ffe63d]The closed door and—and the white walls and...I—[/color]" She dropped her head into her hands, and her voice cut out. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

She cried.