Caroline found particular comfort in Stephen Forbes' library.

The antique bowed window seat was covered in faded, overstuffed cushions that were well worn with housing avid readers. It was a small, cosy room with a statement fireplace that cast a glow on the richly embossed leather-bound titles, which had been her closest and safest friends since she had learned to toddle. The weighty tomes were not capable of avarice or of beguiling her into false friendships; they were trusted friends that were always there for a lonely and awkward young girl who did not trust her own feet.

Tales of adventure, of lost love found and particularly of the protagonist who overcame adversity by simply holding true to themselves were the bricks and mortar of Caroline Forbes dreams and wishes.

The Forbes family were the latest generation of one of numerous families which populated the wealthy countryside of rural Yorkshire, although the Forbes were known more for their yeomen and community standing rather than the financial wealth of the Michaelson's. Caroline had grown up attending the local school alongside the village children and had been reasonably happy, although she was aware from an early age that she sometimes received odd looks from the parents who came to collect their children after school had ended, their eyes lingering on her curling blonde locks and piercing blue eyes with blatant curiosity. The young Caroline had never bothered too much for that however, glad of the company of her own thoughts and feelings most of the time.

'At least that much hasn't changed,' the grown Caroline whispered to the cold glass of the bow window mirror. She was curled up in the library, her favourite childhood book placed gingerly in her lap. The rich leather of 'One Thousand and One Nights' gave her tired soul and body a brief respite from reality, sailing way on flying carpets to a land where generational secrets and gossip could not ruin innocent lives.

Her head was dully pounding, aching from the reduction in her pain relief medication. The fire was providing wonderful warmth however, which she was angling her sore body towards with honest enjoyment. Her brief moment of solitude was cut short, however when her mother, Liz, crept into the room, almost as if afraid of the reception she would receive from her only child.

'Caroline? Are you awake? Can I make you some food sweeth- erm...' she stumbled at the endearment, struggling to refrain despite Caroline's wishes to avoid using sentimental titles.

There was too much hurt on both sides for it at the moment.

Caroline took a moment to assess Liz's appearance. Heartache had been a little unkind to her, but she was still an attractive woman. If Caroline squinted her eyes she might be looking at an older version of herself. A lifetime of healthy and physical living had left her mother with a strong and lithe physique; slightly weathered skin and a naturally intelligent glean in her pale green eyes. Her straight-as-a-blade blonde hair was only slightly streaked with flattering silver and fell to her shoulders in a slinky cut.

'I probably wouldn't look as good as she does at her age' she thought ruefully to herself in a moment of honesty. Her occupation and work-ethic would have made her a burnout long before she reached Liz's age.

'I'm alright Mother, I wouldn't mind a cup of tea if you are making some, I hope you remember the way I like it' she said, swiftly conjuring then banishing the image of piercing blue/gray eyes that gleaned in amusement at the intricate way she made her favourite hot drink.

At this, Liz smiled in genuine camaraderie with her daughter and was confident in her ability to stew and brew with the right amount of hot and cold water that made the drink palatable for Caroline. Her enjoyment in brewing was marred, however by the thought of how to tell Caroline of her earlier encounter, when out in the village, with one Rebekah Michaelson.