It took her longer to calm down, but after several minutes she managed to only be left with the aftershocks of it. Hiccuping slightly, she tugged her knees all the way up to her chin. "I used to," Lotte said, wistful despite herself. "It was all that my father and I did and then-"
She didn't say anything more. It was obvious enough - he'd died and the voices had come. Singing had always been a part of interacting with the voices and they'd encouraged her after her father's death, when depressed. But she'd stopped after the therapy started, knowing the link between the voices and the singing had to be cut. "I don't know how to enjoy it anymore."
There was another sniffle and she asked, "Why do you always come back?"