Her old room was no longer hers, it was a room now decorated for esteemed guests of the family; not that anyone ever stayed there. The ocher color of the walls gave her cause to feel nauseated. It still smelled of fresh paint in there. She got up, once again, wondering just how it was she would escape from the prison that she once called "home."

"You will eat with us tonight, won't you?" she'd been asked. She'd sighed and acquiesced, and now was sitting on the side of the bed wearing something of her sister's that was a bit loose on her, her curls piled atop her head. She wasn't even hungry. She stood up and tested the door... It opened a crack and she noticed a man she didn't recognize turning an eye on her and lifting a brow. "Don't think ye can slip by me, pretty." And then she sighed and said, "Tell my brother I'm not hungry." And then she closed the door firmly.