They can see the change in her. She's become deathly pale and her eyes are sunken. She doesn't smile anymore. They're worried, but they don't know what to say to her. So they stay silent. Even House has no snide remarks, no sarcastic comments to throw at her.
Summer fades to fall, and fall fades to winter, and the number drops below ninety. And yet, she's still not happy. She's detached, emotionless.
But when her knees scrape against the tile, and her fingers hit the back of her throat, she can't help but cry. House was right; she is damaged.