The mere sight of them, aged and silver-haired, hurt incredibly to see. She was glad to feel that hurt. Felt like she deserved to feel that pain. She was the one who'd done this to them, after all. The lines on their faces that she remembered had deepened, and more had formed. Their skin sagged now, and their eyes were tired. Her father kept readjusting in his seat, wincing as though there was pain in his spine, and her mother clearly favored one leg over the other.