Esme is looking none too pleased.

One hand cupped over Alice's shoulder, and arm wrapped around her back, holding her daughter tightly to her when she turns her face as though to hide in Esme's body.

"It's done now?" As much as it can be when her husbands' rightful tirade is falling on the already weary, beaten faces of their children, who in trying to explain don't seem to be reaching any more relief.