Minette sank down on her knees. She sat at the balcony, bare feet, cold stones. She let her tears flood freely, trying to concentrate on her feelings instead.
'Pain.' She whispered to the wind.
'Sorrow.'
'Regret.'
The wind blew around her. Surrounded her.
She saw an old lake before her eyes. And mysts. White pure mysts. They encircled her, took away her breath and lifted her to where she belonged.

She had screamed at Albus, hurt him badly, lashed at him violently. There was only one thing he could do now and that was hate her. Hate her for what she had done.
If only he knew. If only he saw.
It was another part of her, trying to survive without taking much damage. She had been hurt so many times before, that she now rather hurt him than let him hurt her again, even with words and things she didn't mean, she doesn't mean and never will mean.

Please.
I say things, I do things, to get away without another scar.
Don't you know that feeling?
Don't you understand?

Minette's do cry.
Every night.
They do cry.