"Prue, we need to talk about this—"

"Get. Out. Now." Each word was bitten off, she was cold inside. "Before I do something we'll both regret."

"I know you're angry—"

"Angry?" Prue's voice rose to a shriek that hurt her own throat. "I'm not angry, Trish. I'm destroyed. You destroyed me. Both of you. You came into my home, pretended to be my friend, sat with me while I was breaking apart, and the whole time you were sleeping with my husband. Now get the fuck out of my house before I—" ...