Olivia's stare immediately hardened as she cast a sideways glance at her younger brother. Her vision swam before her eyes and she lifted the candle, poking it in his direction. At that moment, she didn't much care about the garments that could catch fire from brandishing a flame in such a manner. In fact, she seemed... annoyed. Vexed. Bothered.

"Have you been talking to Pearl?" she accused, her tone bitter and slurred. Dark eyes were wide with what was certainly madness. "You have, haven't you? How did she know about this? Did she tell you about my closet? I bet saying I ought to see the psychologist was her idea, too. Get you all together and try and force me to get help. I'm not stupid, Roderick."

She returned the candle to its holder and grabbed her glass, draining the last few drops before she weighed it in the palm of her hand.

"I'm going to give you two seconds to get out of my room. Then I am going to scream at you. Don't think I won't throw this glass at you, either!"

Tears sprung up along the rims of her eyes, ones that came from a place of darkness and hurt that gave weight to her heart. She finally looked away from Roderick to stare at the drawing. She grabbed it, crumbled it up, and shoved it into her glass before lighting it with a candle and watching the flames eat away at the paper.

"There, now you can go tell her what I did and that I don't need any help!" she shouted at him.