She’d much rather focus on her rage. Rage that her mother had left her here to take over the family magic, and Grimm Manor, long before she was ready. She knew it was probably in poor taste to be so angry with the dead, but her anger was easier to stomach than the grief that hid beneath her skin. Fury and spite could fuel her, propel her forward, but if she let her grief take over, she wasn’t so sure she’d be able to dig herself out of that pit.
Ooh. I see, I see.
