"I'm not doing anything!" Veronica yells back at him. "You know nothing about it! You don't know about how I wake up every, single night trying not to scream because of what he made me do! And you're just like him! You're EXACTLY like him!"

Her voice hitches hard, and it's too late, the tears have spilled down her cheeks, wiped away with angry little movements as she turns away.

"Why?" she cries without looking back to him, hands bunched into little fists against her chest. She's not sure exactly what she's asking or even who she's asking it to, Frank or god. They're both assholes, in her estimation.