Pecilia began getting ready to face her family for the day in her childhood room. Like her entire house, the room remained as it always had. Gothic and dreary but exquisitely decorated. She examined herself in the old mirror of her vanity wondering if anything about her had changed in the six months she'd been away. She gazed at herself for a very long time, starting to think that maybe a few things actually had.
"Pecilia." Her father said, bargaining into her room, with her mother in tow. He had a note in his hands and stepped forward to place it on the vanity before her.
Pecilia stared down at the open letter, but only read the final line.
"Get your things together." Her father ordered before leaving. Pecilia didn't make a single movement as her face flushed as white as a ghost.
"Pack the black dress dear." Her mother said, fixing an imaginary stray hair of her's. "It suits you best." She added, before following after her father.
Pecilia's gaze raised slowly from the letter to her reflection. Her reflection looked exactly the same as it always had.