After Vanessa and her companions left, the sky gradually began to brighten.
Flora tidied herself up and had a little to eat. Just as she was about to head out to gather information, an unexpected letter interrupted her plans.
It was a handwritten letter from Elliot, delivered to the Mourning Poetry Society early that morning.
This surprised her considerably, but after a moment's thought, she decided to postpone going out and read the letter first.
The premiere was tomorrow. Flora was, after all, only a young girl, and she was still a little nervous about it all. A letter might not help her much, but perhaps it would cheer her up.
Yet the letter felt unusually thin, as though it contained only a single sheet of paper.
With a faint, expectant smile, she opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.
But as her gaze swept over the writing, the smile rapidly faded from her face. Her eyes slowly widened, and the fingers holding the letter began to tremble slightly.
She abruptly rose from the table, took a few steps, then returned and carefully folded the letter, tucking it into a pocket close to her body.
Only after doing all this did she take a deep breath and step through the door into the faint chill of the morning air.
Flora was not the only one on the move that morning.
Dorothea had not gone to the Mourning Poetry Society. She had parted ways with Vanessa and Allen early that morning and returned alone to the campus of Miskatonic University.
Today, she would be the busiest of them all.
Once on campus, she went neither to the Sisterhood nor to visit her adviser, instead heading straight for her dorm room.
She pushed open the familiar door, revealing the small room, and