Sabrina's not sure how long she cries, only that when she can even start to think again, her face feels hot and snotty, her eyes sore, her hands sweaty where they hold her familiar. Even then, the tears just keep trickling out, like she can't control them at all.

Slowly she's able to breathe more evenly, even if she can't exactly breathe through her nose.

"I'm sorry," she says, in a small voice, not really sure what she's sorry for, only that she is.