The morning sun broke through the lace curtains, spilling gold across the floorboards of Selene's room. She hadn't slept, not really. Her body had rested, but her mind had not.
Every second had replayed the dinner, the laughter, and the speed at which things were shifting. Anne had only been home for three days, yet it already felt as though she had always belonged there.
Selene rose from bed, her fingers brushing the edge of the sunflower vase. The petals had begun to wilt slightly, or perhaps that was only what she wished to see. The memory of Anne's voice, lilting and warm, still echoed in her ears: "We're sisters now, after all."
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she said quietly.
The door opened, revealing her maid, Clara. A girl she'd known since she was twelve. Yet even her presence gave Selene pause now. Clara's hair was tied differently. Her uniform had the Sinclair crest embroidered over the chest. Something that hadn't existed before.
