Just like last week, the pile of votes appear in front of the Sergeant, who counts them with practiced ease. He stands up as soon as he's done, pausing for only a moment, before making his announcement.
[At once, she jerks away from the touch with her whole body, all instinct, but—any other time she might whirl around to strike, she would shout, but any anger she might try now fades. Something like surprise makes it through all her listlessness, all that confusion she's been covering with scowls all this time, now without the defiance—but that fades, too, as she stumbles out of arm's reach; she doesn't have the energy for anything more.
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I'M GOOD AT PRETENDING
m...maybe try again later]
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I - I'm sorry.
[This is a miserable situation. He'll give her space, for now at least, but he's frustrated by it - confounded, more accurately.]