Ester's room was silent, except for the muffled sound of her suitcase being closed. The folds of heavy, dark clothing were organized with military precision. Each item was carefully stored, as if this simple act of packing was her way of keeping her mind occupied and not giving in to the chaos seething within.
She pulled the metal latch, locking the suitcase, and let out a long, almost exhausted sigh. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and her red eyes stared at the reflection in the mirror opposite. Her pale skin betrayed sleepless nights; subtle dark circles marred her face, which, no matter how hard she tried to steel herself, betrayed fatigue.
"At least..." she murmured to herself, her voice low, icy, but filled with bitter irony. "At least on this trip... maybe I can sleep."
