Its a quiver in the jaw first, the muscles in his cheeks growing taut as they try to restrain it, but its only a matter of moments before the trembling has spread to his shoulders. Then Rosen simply seems to crumple. His head drops into his hands, his mouth falls open in a struggle for breath, and what wins out is just a guttering sob.

'Six children' plays on a constant loop in the back of his head as he feels hot drops of tears beginning to leave stinging, salty tracks on his cheeks behind his fingers.

Six children.

or.

...Seven...? or...? Could it it be that...

Lee's mind flares against any new thoughts, trying to in fight or flight desperation to shut everything down to haze and numbness.

six children. six children. children. child....

Air. Rosen becomes intensely aware of his need for air. His breathes feel like they've caught in his throat, digging claws in and refusing to go in or out around the heave of sobs. Without signal and with great clumsiness he gets himself to his feet and makes a bolt for the door. He grabs at it, fingers splaying against the wood before he finds the handle then when he finds it he yanks the thing open so roughly the hinges whine.

He then drops himself to the ground, knees in the dirt, and head bowed. All of him has wilted.