I brushed back my dark hair from my shoulders, refraining from my usual ponytail in favor of leaving the wavy heaviness hanging loose around me. Though it rankled to conform, I'd carefully dressed in a dark blue silk blouse and floor length, black velvet skirt, a pentagram patterned silver chain belt hanging around my waist.
I touched the matching encircled star around my throat, staring into the restored mirror of my dressing table. Quaid had worked hard and expended a lot of energy to bring everything back to the way it was before the Brotherhood attacked, right down to the tiny nick in the edge of the tabletop I'd accidentally made the first day he gave it to me.
My fingers traced over the tiny sliver of missing wood and I smiled. The sounds of the kids laughing down the hall made everything seem surreal, as though the last week had been a terrible dream we'd all shared, but thankfully woken up from.