Slowly, painfully, Reeva stood. She edged out of the narrow
space described by the chair, the bed, and the table,
and she went into the windowless bathroom. She hit the
light and hid her eyes for a moment, then stared
at herself in the mirror. She was wan, distraught. Then
she realized that was exactly what she was looking for,
evidence that Oscar’s denunciations had undone her, and she turned
from the sight of herself and wept. She eased herself
onto the closed toilet and sobbed at her own self-pity,
and she sobbed at it all. Her spirit was broken.
Paraphrases from the novel Songs Without Words by Ann Packer.