Would it have been better not to ask? As Veronica sways in place, her chin trembling, she doesn't know if it even matters. She'd known what the answer was going to be before he'd even opened his mouth.

All at once her feet turn her loose and she surges forward, more anguished than angry, and pushes at his chest hard, once and then again, breath shuddering through grit teeth. She is not going to cry, she is not.

"Fuck you, Frank!" she yells, and pushes him again, her hands small and ineffectual. "Fuck you! You don't get to decide! You don't get to play god and act like you're doing the world a god damned favor!"