"..."
Vinea, called Nia by her friends, stared at the letter she received last night.
Her face betrayed nothing.
But her heart felt like lead.
She's already read the letter four times, but only now did she finally put it down--having resigned herself to what she know will come next.
Vinea closed her eyes in meditation
("Why so soon?")
She knew it was coming. It was inevitable. She felt like saying something--but the words got stuck in her throat.
Suddenly, her family came to mind.
"Ah, silly me. Of course."
And the bolt of reason struck her at once.
Vinea smiled to herself and softly chuckled.
She didn't think she'd feel this unready.
("Like there was any way I could ever be...")
Sitting by herself and still wearing her red and brown St. Areia uniform, she felt alone in that dark, witchwood table surrounded by ancient books and other young ladies of quality.
She sheathed her right hand into her left--lightly caressing her ring finger and the cheap, silver band around it.
("Looks like I'll be going home for the summer...") Vinea took a deep sigh and shrugged her shoulders. ("I'll need to take a train…")