She waits for him every night. She's been waiting for what seems to be a lifetime of sorrow and remorse. She knows well that he won't be back, but he's her beloved stable boy. So there she is, sitting at that same old familiar chair next to that glassy window, watching raindrops run down the pane, waiting for some glimmer of hope, a sign, anything.
Yes, she knows he's gone, gone for good, but that doesn't change anything. It doesn't change the fact that she still loves him, even if he's gone. She's becoming farther and farther away from her father, her mother, at night's she's elusive and can be found sitting in that same old rocking chair, waiting, dark circles under her eyes and pale white skin. She's never getting tired of waiting, no point in tiring of something you've become accustomed to.
She stares out that same window over the valleys and the mountains that she soon cannot see, and she closes her eyes because she knows there's only one escape, only one way to be free.
And now she's staring out that window, and it's then when her father comes in and turns a ghostly pale at the sight of his daughter, his daughter that is looking out at an unseen landscape, lips parted in a sickening smile, blood drenching her beautiful gown.
It was inevitable.
But something Henry cannot handle.
And that night, even Cora wept for her lost daughter.