[ South lifts her head part-way when she feels him moving, just enough to barely peek over her knees. Watches him walk over to her younger self, watches what he does, then buries her face firmly back in her knees before he can tell she’s watching at all. It takes all of her strength not to just burst into sobs.

It’s all over, isn’t it? She has to let him make the choice, she has to deal with the consequences of what she’s done, but it hurts. It hurts more than anything else could ever hurt. ]

I-I love you, Drew.

[ It’s muffled, weak, strained. She doesn’t expect a response, but she has to say it anyway. She loves him and she’s sorry, but neither of those things can change what happened. Neither of those things can turn her back into the person who would never have hurt her brother in a million years. ]