|| @finestra-starters
Winnie’s hands trembled as one clasped around the mug of tea that had gone cold, the other resting against her chin. Her eyes stung with tears as she stared blankly at the wall in front of her, just as she’d done for the past twenty four hours. Ever since she’d heard those fateful words. Emrys Abbott is dead. The girl had screamed until her voice was hoarse, she didn’t want to believe it. Part of her still hoped he’d come running into the great hall, throw his arms around her and tell her it was a mistake. But he didn’t.
He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone. The words repeated in her head like a mantra, reminding her of the loss. She’d not been particularly old enough to understand the pain when she was younger, but now, now she felt it - the unbearable pain of her brother being gone. He’d always tried to protect her, and Winnie had sensed something had been wrong just before he’d left the dance. She’d let him go when she should have pushed harder for information, when she should have followed him. Maybe then, he would still be here.
She didn’t even register someone approaching her, her focus remained on the spot on the wall, lips barely moving as she croaked, "I’m sorry, but I wish to be left alone right now.”
