Anne sat on the stairs, curled in on herself. She never openly disobeyed her father and she was terrified of where her defiance would lead. There was no point. She would have to go home in the end. They needed her. She knew her father didn't mean bad. Perhaps if she went home penitent, admitting she had done wrong, and asked for forgiveness, he would calm down and all would be well again. But she couldn't get herself to move or say anything. She felt hot and cold and shivery and nauseous. She drew shaky breaths.