She tries to pretend it was insignificant. Like it didn't hurt; that she wasn't praying for another outcome. She can still feel the way Elsa kissed. Or, rather, they way she didn't.
Jesus she spent all last night in tears. How does she even have any left to cry?
She walks, face still sticky and eyes raw and grainy, towards the bathroom. Before she makes it, something makes her pause. Something she was hoping to avoid.
Elsa's sitting in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea.
She turns around before Anna has a chance to escape.