Henrietta's chin wobbled slightly, but she didn't cry again. It wasn't the secrecy that bothered her, but rather the idea that she might face some sort of vigorous questioning about the incident. Just thinking about the possibilities of it made her feel queasy. If she was questioned by aurors or something, she would almost certainly faint. She wondered distantly if that would be a mark for or against her.
She nodded, then swallowed and pushed her hands down flat against her skirt in an effort to steel herself. She understood the stakes — all of the things she'd been worried Mama might do to her, except now long and drawn out with traumatic ordeals all along the way instead of visited swiftly in order to avoid gossip. "And if someone asks about the last time I saw Mama, what should I say?"
It would be obvious to anyone who looked at her that she'd been outside in the storm. She could go hide herself away in the lavatory long enough that it wouldn't be obvious she'd been out with him, but that would still be cause for questions, she thought. Particularly if they ended up finding Mama's body outside after all.
She nodded, then swallowed and pushed her hands down flat against her skirt in an effort to steel herself. She understood the stakes — all of the things she'd been worried Mama might do to her, except now long and drawn out with traumatic ordeals all along the way instead of visited swiftly in order to avoid gossip. "And if someone asks about the last time I saw Mama, what should I say?"
It would be obvious to anyone who looked at her that she'd been outside in the storm. She could go hide herself away in the lavatory long enough that it wouldn't be obvious she'd been out with him, but that would still be cause for questions, she thought. Particularly if they ended up finding Mama's body outside after all.
