Jade Fern Grove everything costs

Back when she was Ophelia, the gilded girl had always thought of herself as an attentive listener in conversations, especially heated ones. It was important, after all, to hear someone out and really connect with them, their feelings, their wants. But she wasn't that girl anymore. And Reverie was a woman utterly bone-tired and done with molding herself to the desires of her family. Soft words filled the space between them, but what she heard was the suffocating clicks and shifts of a burden refastened to her shoulders. We needed you, we still do, like the weight of the world shackled to her, and she heard little beyond that.
They needed her. She knew that; she didn't care. That was the point, and Everett still couldn't see it. This new life, this beginning, it was supposed to be about what she wanted. She realized she was breathing too quickly, thinking too quickly, reduced to quick childlike snippets of I don't care, I don't want to care, and this isn't about you!
It boiled over all too soon.
I don't - I don't care if you need me! She didn't want to be needed, not anymore. She took another step back, still breathing hard. I would rather starve - I would rather die than spend another second dealing with all of you. All your problems - deal with them yourself! Like I'm doing!
She ran from him.