Joyce's shoulders shudder at the mention of the injury -- god, she'd almost forgotten about that, about that awful moment with Will's hand around her throat and Nancy grabbing for the hot poker, the scent and sound of the hot metal making contact with flesh. She drops her face into her hands for a moment, breathes in shakily.
"Thank you," she manages finally. The marks on her neck are still visible, very small finger-shaped bruises. "And of course you can. Of course. It's all yours." She lifts her head, eyes glassy with tears, a rare moment of weakness now that neither of her boys are watching. "It's been a...bad couple weeks."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2019-10-22 01:08 am (UTC)"Thank you," she manages finally. The marks on her neck are still visible, very small finger-shaped bruises. "And of course you can. Of course. It's all yours." She lifts her head, eyes glassy with tears, a rare moment of weakness now that neither of her boys are watching. "It's been a...bad couple weeks."