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back to her distraught gazing.
    Clare joined her, sitting with her as she always did. But no matter how long the night wore on, nor how deeply the cold sunk into Jen's very bones, still Clare did not put her arm round her sister to warm her.
    It wouldn't have made any difference.
     

She Who Interferes
     
     
                  “How did you sleep sweetheart?” Dyra asked her youngest daughter the following morning, an hour or so after sunrise had broken on the misty horizon over to the East.
                  In truth, Jen was groggy and stiff and sore, to say the very least. She had at some point crawled back inside her window during the night, but most definitely not before the cold had ruined her joints, and now her whole body ached.
                  “Yeah, fine.” She lied, naturally.
                  Taking a single bite of toast Jen stood up to take her plate to the sink, whilst her mother still hovered cautiously over her own unfinished breakfast.
                  “I thought you’d gone out again…” Dyra continued. “I came up to get you to tell you dinner was ready, but I couldn’t find you…”
                  “No…” Jen uttered, pausing at first as if there wasn’t anything else to follow. Eventually though, cautiously, she continued. “We were up on the roof…”
                  “Oh…I see…” Her mother concluded, her tone clearly disapproving. “You know I don’t like that, Jennifer…” She continued, her words cautionary. “It’s dangerous…”
                  Jen only sighed.
                  Yes, she knew her mother didn’t like it.
                  But, at the same time, her mother knew that she knew. And, in turn, Dyra also knew that she’d been going out onto the roof for months now.
                  Just, complicated as it was, neither of them wanted to argue the point.
                  Dyra let it drop, and instead drew a deep breath to introduce the tender subject that had been her original intention in the first place.
                  “Caroline’s coming over today…” She breached as gently as she could, though, it’s near impossible to be subtle when you’re using a battering ram.
                  Jen’s initial response was a look shot across the kitchen that mixed perfectly seriousness, disgust and despair all into one.
                  “Now…” Dyra attempted to salvage the situation before it got out of hand. “Please try to be polite…”
                  “Where’s she been now then!?” Jen suddenly exploded, all of her anger multiplying and escalating, completely out of control in an instant. “What’s she coming to show off this time!?”
                  “Please…” Her mother attempted, but her efforts were futile.
                  “She’s just coming to tell me how to live my life again!!” Jen blurted, tears streaming down her face all of a sudden.
                  “Jen!!” Dyra cried desperately.
    But it was too late.
    The damage was already done.
    “NO!!” Jen yelled in a note of sheer finality. She fled the kitchen immediately, racing upstairs shaking uncontrollably.
    Two flights of stairs later she huddled on the floor leaning against the chest of drawers in her bedroom, sobbing and gasping, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. It took quite some time for Jen to regain some semblance of composure, but luckily Dyra left her to it.
    Having heard the commotion, Clare sat by Jen’s side the whole time, silent and unmoving.
    Her mere presence was comforting, as Jen slowly managed to calm herself.
    She had never really been all that emotional, and rarely succumbed to her feelings in such a dramatic way. But of late, for some reason, she had found it more and more difficult to contain her rushing and raging