June 13th, 1895 — Pendergast School for Young Roses, Wellingtonshire, Hogsmeade

The letter had arrived during luncheon the day prior. Philippa had shared its highlights—that her sister had been born—with Forsythia and Iris and Harriet of course, as well as whomever had been in earshot, but her father's words, and the gravity they carried, had been kept for Pippa and Pippa alone. She had turned their heavy meaning over and over in her mind in the time since, their weight exhausting even as she went through the motions of a day at the finishing school. If anyone had noticed she was off, they had not said anything—though the stubborn Miss Rowle would have denied it in a heartbeat if they had.

"I think my mother is going to die."

The words were offered softly to the darkness of the room she shared with Forsythia, sleep having eluded Pippa entirely in the hour or so since the cousins had extinguished the lights. Perhaps, she thought, if she acknowledged the feeling aloud, it would cease to trouble her—and in a place such as this, where appearances mattered, the darkness, with only a cousin she expected was already sleeping, was the lone place where she might find the privacy—and the bravery—to do so.

It didn't help.

Instead, saying the words aloud served as a chink in her internal armour, and a tear rolled silently down the girl's cheek.

Forsythia Rowle/Tycho Dodonus

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Forsythia had felt a pinprick of concern for her concern as something seemed... not quite right with her. It was not super obvious or anything though and the vibe Forsythia had picked up on had been so subtle that she eventually brushed it off. Between them both, Pippa had always been the more emotionally strong one so she figured Pippa would be fine even if something was wrong.

She had been in that disorienting space between being half-awake and being asleep when a voice broke the silence of the room. I think my mother is going to die. Had something happened when her newest cousin had been born? "Why do you think she will die?" She asked, moving out of her bed and tucking her feet into her slippers before padding over to Pippas bed.

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Forsythia's voice in the darkness prompted Pippa to bolt upright in her bed, one hand pawing any moisture from her eyes even with the darkness as concealment. She had not realized her cousin was awake, but had some part of her hoped she might be?

"I—" she caught herself, uncertain how to respond. "It was the letter. Papa wrote to me as if... as if I were grown."

The words had been in that special language adults knew so well, able to say things without really saying them. They had carried a gravity that she had seen before, but that had seldom been directed to her.

Forsythia Rowle/Tycho Dodonus

  

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Forsythias brows furrowed in the darkness at her confusion. "Are you certain this must mean dire news?" She asked, moving off her bed now to join her cousin in hers. They had not always been the most physically affectionate of siblings but Forsythia had often been the softer of the two, more wont to lend a cuddle if she truly felt someone needed one.

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