It's even quieter when Elsa ushers her into the room and closes the door. There's a spare bed in the center, and Anna moves there automatically. She keeps her head down and turned away.
She wants to cry again. God, all the crying.
But she deserves it. Elsa must think she's such a child. Who goes to parties and gets drunk and high? Stupid kids, that's who.
"I'm sorry," she rasps. "Please don't hate me. God, I'm such a disappointment..."
The bed shifts. "You aren't, Anna," Elsa murmurs. "You're absolutely wonderful."