Thus, the de Selm sat within her lonely cell, her fingers twirling around a rosary's pearls. Her lips were pursed into a thin line, her expression remaining stoic. She could not cry, she could not scream, she could not do anything. In silence, she awaits the incoming trial, composed and as proper as she could be. She did not know what the near future may hold - she did not know what will happen. But one thing, she does know. In a wicked and incredibly crude way, she did the right thing. Deep within her heart, Minerva knows her father would have brushed it under the rug, would have smiled and kept up the family's public image. A tear rolls down her bruised cheek as she thought of such, her head shaking slightly.
Where have they gone so wrong? Once upon a time, Emma and Minerva were like ying and yang - not to be torn apart at all. Something within her changed, and even back then, Minerva knew it was bad. Things escalated - and there was nothing she could do against it.
Minerva felt a sting within her chest as she thought about it. But... such a cruel person? A person who killed her dogs - a person who killed fifteen others? A person who ruined oh-so many lifes? She set her mind firmly upon the fact that if She had not done it, noone would have. And the cycle would have continued.