Of course you hated him, Sonia thinks fiercely, dizzily, but she doesn't say anything until she's pulled back, sniffing and pressing her eyes to the back of her sleeve for a long moment.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles thickly, a catch-all of some kind, like a ward against all pain. She draws in a deep breath, only slightly shaky, and heaves it all out. "I just -- I didn't know -- I'm sorry."

She sniffs again, sitting up, and she brushes her hair from her face and draws her knees to her chest. "It's always the other way around," she says absently, not looking at Byerly, her cheek pillowed against her shoulder. "That the bully gets away with it because no one will believe you, whose word do you think they'll take. I never thought it could happen the other way around, that it could happen like -- that."