I don't think you understand the strain it puts on an angel to show their true visage, torment and all, to this broken world.
Trying to wrap your mundane, dulled awareness around an angelic visage is like putting new wine in an old wineskin. It stopped being flexible long ago, and now you try to contain something dynamic in nature in it... Something has to break, your mind or the visage itself.
The wings are always there, as is the blood. It just isn't worth her putting herself through the torment of sharing.