Cassandra paced around the living room with mail in her gloved hand, sorting through it with a sour look to her face. The clock ticked, chiming thrice at the hour and noticed in her peripheral her teenage daughter Caitlyn entering the estate.

She was still clad in her uniform and Cassandra mustered up a slightly disinterested-sounding, “Hello, Darling”, before she went back to sorting her mail, uncovering notice after notice of new requests to be foreseen by the council. God, such dreadful, meticulous work at times.

Apparently, Caitlyn was in the talking mood, a ranting mood should she say. That girl could change her mind in a moment, she’d found. Some days she could barely get her out of the shooting range and others she was a mouthful.

Of course, Cassandra was in no mood to entertain her daughter’s after-school ramblings while her mind was preoccupied with external affairs due to her political position.

“Caitlyn, what are you rambling about?” She asked, rather annoyedly, stirring her tea. Of course, she was aware her daughter wasn’t the best with ‘subtle’ cues, and her irritation grew. Still, she tried to calm herself so she wouldn’t snap. Best of luck to her.