Estella didn't like the word 'depressed'.
She didn't like saying it, she didn't like talking about it, and she didn't like admitting that she'd once been depressed. Clinically, with no sense of escape for over a year. A naturally emotional person, it hadn't taken her long to fall into the routine of not having interest in anything, avoiding her family and friends, sleepless nights---days, weeks of the same dark and miserable place. Estella didn't like admitting that she'd let herself lose touch in so much, she was embarrassed that she hadn't been strong enough to fight it.
So Florence talking about her issues, it startled Estella. Her sister had not been through anything as intense as she had, or as life shattering and---Estella knew that different people were affected in different ways by different things, but the fact remained; she believed that she'd be able to help Florence, before she really got too deep.
And--teenagers did tend to be a bit more dramatic than they'd like you to believe.
After shooing Jacob upstairs ("Blocks?" "Blocks!"), Estella wiped her hands on her shirt and opened the front door. "Hey, hi--come in, I've got tea on the stove."
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