Just... hear me out,
I tipped my head, waiting.
Guilty or not guilty, you chose this path.
She continued melancholily, dipping her scales, as if to wash them, as if to cleanse them.
You did not stop and consider the consequences.
Her voice was flecked with bitter disappointment. I turned away.
You did not stop and question your morals.
She sat very, very still. Like the world could ever disturb her peace! I snorted.
Do you even care?
She cried out in anguish now, rattling the table angrily.
I stood up abruptly, knocking the chair back, where it continued to take the path of gravity until it crashed onto the floor.
The room swayed, the kitchen table split down the middle, the metal pans clattered onto the wooden floor, and she broke.