Moving the chair that she was sitting in closer to the desk, Angela reached across it to settled her hand over the top of Peter's, "It's all right, Peter," She said, curling her fingers lightly around his. There was so much hanging between them, obscuring this family from each other, but out of all of them, she was the one that had the most reason to apologize, not Peter.
"I just wish you boys would understand that I can take care of myself," She said, peering up at her youngest with a soft expression, almost pleading for him to believe those words. She might have been old, but she was far, far from helpless.