For a brief moment, she allowed herself to picture their situation as normal. Mother and daughter having tea together. Mother and daughter filling each other in about their lives, the mother more of a listener than a talker. Mother and daughter watching the youngest three in their family, the ones too young to fully understand and appreciate the world around them. Blissful ignorance.

"I'm going to get ready for school. It's about time I change out of my gear. Don't worry, I'll walk them to theirs and make sure they don't leave. Farewell." If Zinnia sounded curt, she hadn't intended to be.

They just weren't normal, and weren't going to be ever again.

They weren't going to go to the market together and haggle down the cost of a bag of pears. Her mother wasn't going to help her pick out a dress for her first date. Purple because it matched her skin tone the best? Yellow because it made her look fun? No, Zinnia would never entertain those questions with her mother. They weren't going to cook meals together or stroll through the town like so many other mothers and daughters do.

If Zinnia skipped out on her schooling, her mother wouldn't care. Her mother wouldn't show concern, worry, anger, anguish, sadness, all-of-the-above, or insert-anything-into-the-blank because she herself was a blank that'd never be filled.

What happened two years ago had taken too many things from them. Her mother's voice. Their social standing. Zinnia's respect for this awful, vile town that'd act neighborly one day and turn its back on you the next.

And worst of all...

Her.

The one whose name she was forbidden to say in the house or to anyone else. Her father acted like she'd never existed at all. He'd been the one to throw out all of her things from the bedroom she'd shared with her, not bothering to ask anyone's permission. Artwork was shredded. Books were burned. Clothes were torn. Her bed was broken down and tossed into a bonfire.

Zinnia sat down at her bedroom mirror.

She'd kept the other half of the room empty, not knowing what to do with the space that shouldn't have ever become hers.

What look should she go for today? Studious and capable? Cute and dependable? She settled on something between those two looks, something simple with a muted palette. Her hairpin gave her a splash of color that'd remind her to fix her smile every time she saw it. She put on a just-because necklace that Theres had made for her a long time ago. It was supposed to be some beetle known for its tenacity, but it looked more like a dented coin. The necklace made it clear that Theres was a blacksmith's daughter, not a jeweler's.

She rubbed some of the lavender-hybrid solution into her neck, at the pulse point. Her supply was getting woefully low.

It was as she was doing this that she took another look at herself in the mirror.

They were starting to look alike. Eyes. Nose. Face shape. Everything.

Everyone did all they could to drive out Freesia's spirit, but there she was in the mirror.

Zinnia covered it up with a sheet and left to get her siblings.

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A/N: This is an interactive fantasy serial. Voting takes place on Thursdays through Sundays on the story's main site. The most up-to-date chapters can also be found there, but uploading will happen in parts on RRL as well.

The next post will be Chapter 6.3.

Chapter 12 is out now on the main site. This week, voting will end Sunday at 11:59 PM EST.