Marian let herself crying everything out like she'd been holding back since this all began, and when she had no more tears left her throat felt ragged and her eyes were hot and swollen. God, her head ached.
She sat up on the bed and pushed her tear-wet hair out of her face. She had to keep it together. She had to keep it together, if only for her boys.
So when the door opened and the sheriff reappeared in the room with pizza boxes, Marian didn't say anything harsh. She just said, rather petulantly, "one of those better be meat lovers."