[ He snaps, and she feels it wash over her. Shutting her eyes against his pain where it broils and rages, and she wants to weep more. Just the same, this horrible miasma spreading among everyone. She shuts her eyes, lowering her hands back against her apron.

Must contain it, even if she cannot, really. Her tears tracking hot and prickling and she knows its fear, below it, of this expression. ]

Whatever has the rule of this place, I suspect it has done this to us all. For what reason I cannot fathom... [ Of all things, this outpouring. To make such a scene out of them all. ] ... But I do not think we are allowed to stop.