She was thirteen

And was staying with you, since your parents were impoverished. You were grown and moved out, no matter how much your parents felt against it. Violet had come along, insisting that she didn't want to have to wear a mutton chop as her sleeve, which wasn't a lie, really. So, leaving the rest of the family behind, she and her older sister, you, left for your own house, after being married. And to her delight, it was large and fancy, nothing like when you two had been growing up. She had danced and sang when she saw her bedroom, lavishing in the silk sheets and the large interior. Upon visiting the large garden behind your estate, she had wandered around and named all the flowers, skipping and twirling around in her brand new dresses. Yet, in the absence of her mother's warm embrace, came turmoil and unease, paranoia. But since she didn't wish to go back, you tried to do everything to make her feel better. Tonight, she had came out from a bath, hair done, and a smile on her face. "Evening, sister." She chirped.