[Isabela's tone goes a little lighter, but Rosalind's stomach plunges.]
Of course he did.
[There's something harder in her tone now, and she takes a step closer to Isabela. She won't touch her, not yet, but still she wants the physical proximity. There's a hundred things she thinks to say, sentiments and wishes and desires choking in her throat, unable to be articulated for sheer lack of knowledge on how to say them. I'm sorry and I was terrified of being foisted on a man and he's dead and he can't touch you and I would that I could have killed him with you all mix together.
no subject
Of course he did.
[There's something harder in her tone now, and she takes a step closer to Isabela. She won't touch her, not yet, but still she wants the physical proximity. There's a hundred things she thinks to say, sentiments and wishes and desires choking in her throat, unable to be articulated for sheer lack of knowledge on how to say them. I'm sorry and I was terrified of being foisted on a man and he's dead and he can't touch you and I would that I could have killed him with you all mix together.
Instead, what escapes:]
What happened to your mother?