A wise person once said "The more things change, the more they stay the same." As paradoxical as the statement is, it has never more true than in the case of our poor, unfortunate girl. How unlucky it is to be in two nationally renowned tragedies, how fortunate to survive them both. How tragic it is to lose both parents and how excellent to receive their wealth. How heartbreaking it must be to lose not one nor two, but three families and how fufilling to grow to make another of your own. So wretchedly blessed is our poor girl. But it is blessedly wretched to end up in the orphanage once again, even if it has been planned all along. Wouldn't you agree?

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20th October 1946

The place had barely changed since the last ti- No, not the last time. Before that, even the day before that. The years had been kind to it. 'Almost as kind as they've been to me', Jennifer thought as she traced her hand over the faded door frame, peering into what used to be her old dorm room. To think that she had been taken in the orphanage as an almost nameless, lonely girl all those years ago only to return again. She sat experimentally on one of the bottom bunks, gradually putting her weight on the old frame. They were as sturdy as they had always been. In fact, the mattress had only taken sixteen years to lose its back aching stiffness. It was almost funny, in a way.

She let herself relax, lying back for a short moment and shutting her eyes. It felt like the old times, waning between the dorm room and her dreams while the other girls chattered around her. Jennifer could almost hear them now, their high voices whispering quietly in the back of her mind. They nattered and giggled, just utter nonsense that she neither could nor cared to decipher, just as they used to when she was a girl. Diana's superior drawl, Meg's posh, polysyballic tone, Eleanor's curt responses, Amanda's occasional squeak, Wendy's soft words as she crept down from her bunk to slip into Jennifer's...

The weight shifted on the bed and Jennifer's eyes shot open, her heart skipping for a moment. A familiar set of innocent, blue eyes bored down at her. She let out a relieved laugh, sitting up with a hand pressed against her chest.

"John, you shouldn't be sneaking around like that. You gave me such a fright."

The boy stood up and took a step back from his mother while he took a long glance around the room, expression getting more uneasy all the while. His voice was high, even for a boy of nine, and didn't betray the nervousness that his face gave away.

"When are we going home?"

She sighed, smiling softly and running her hands through his mousy hair before cupping his face. He always looked so serious, far more serious than a child his age had any right to. His father in expression, his mother in looks.

"This is our home now, dear. We'll be happy here, you, me and your father," she said reassuringly, but John didn't look any bit reassured as his mother stood up, smoothing down her skirt and starting towards the door.

"But mother, the other children don't like me."

That stopped Jennifer in her tracks, the sad tone in which he said it. She turned on her heel, crouching down at eye level to him and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I know that the children were... less than wonderful in your old school, but you haven't even met the other children yet. They'll be here within the fortnight and you'll make so many new friends, you'll see."

His eyes weren't focused on her at all. His gaze wandered across each and every bunk, along the walls and out the windows. Everywhere, it seemed, but towards Jennifer. He shook his head slightly. Not in the way of someone who disagrees with an opinion, but the slight, absent-minded shake of disbelief.

"But Mother..."

Jennifer held back a tired sigh, opting instead to straighten up and ruffle his hair. That drew his attention back to her as he blinked for a moment before looking up at her. The poor boy seemed to get like this sometimes, looking off into the distance as if there was something of far more interest just beyond the horizon.

"Come along. There's still unpacking to be done. Let's get started on the kitchen and then we can fix you something to eat, okay?"

She started towards the door, the clicking of her shoes against the wooden floor the only sound. Jennifer had gotten half way down the hall before realising that her son hadn't made a move to follow her. She sighed and turned, about to slip back into the room as she called her son's name. He ran through the doorway at the same moment, nearly colliding into his mother and hurrying down the hall to take the stairs two steps at a time.

"John!"

Jennifer rolled her eyes, about to follow him when something caught her eye. A splash of brightness in the otherwise dreary room, something that most definitely wasn't there a few moments ago. She stepped into the room almost cautiously, on her guard for a reason she couldn't explain to herself. There, where she and John had been standing a few minutes prior. She knelt to pick it up, careful not to hurt herself upon it. Her heart skipped a beat, a moment of nostalgia and conflicting fondness and discomfort coming over her.

What would a single red rose be doing there?