Father reluctantly handed over several shillings, for Ruth's new dress. Her old one simply would no longer do. The rotten fruit stained all the way through; even after much scrubbing, its odor remained. Finally, they fed the ruined garment to the fire and watched the flames consume the colorful fabric. Ruth smoothed her new dress carefully and sat beside the fireplace, watching her old clothing melt. As the angry flames licked at the last few pieces of cloth, her own anger spilled over the surface.

"Miss Lisette says the soldiers will find out who did it and punish them severely."

"No one should prey on little girls." Father agreed.

Only Mother hesitated, seemingly focused on the soapy dishes that she was determinedly submerging in a basin of water. "I'm sure they had good intentions."

"What good could possibly come from assaulting children?" Father demanded. He'd made no move to help with the dinner dishes and instead sat on a chair, nursing his disapproval and sulking like a schoolboy.

"The girls are mostly wealthy and probably spoiled." Mother pointed out, with a nod towards her daughter. "Just look at Ruth's new dress."

"I needed this!" Ruth blinked in confusion. "Don't you remember how badly my old one smelled?"

"You could have made do with one of mine."

"If I want to buy my daughter a dress I will!" Father shot back, forgetting, apparently, that he hadn't actually wanted to buy the dress. "No one has the right to harass my child because I chose to buy her something."

"I'm not saying they've the right to go after Ruth." Mother seemed utterly unbothered by her husband's anger. "But there's a revolution going on, even if the soldiers pretend not to believe it. The people are riled up and no one should be surprised by a few inappropriate targets."

"I know about the revolution." Ruth piped up. "Miss Lisette and Miss Barbara talk about it all the time."

"Oh do they?" Father spoke in an odd tone, focusing his attentions on his eldest daughter.

"Yes." Ruth confirmed with a careless shrug and proceeded to quote her teachers. "Too many peasants are allowed into Trillagla these days. And too many slaves receive too much freedom. They're jealous of their hard working betters and want to seize away our wealth. But they've no idea what to do with money. They're uneducated and greedy. Otherwise they wouldn't do things like throw rotten fruit at schoolgirls. So it's very important for us to support the soldiers wholeheartedly and to report anything suspicious at once. Because that's the only way to save our homeland."

Ruth had expected her parents' approval. She had, after all, just delivered a coherent and passionate speech that proved she paid attention in her classes. But for a long moment after her words, neither of her parents said a thing. When Mother spoke, it was only a short, soft murmur. "You see?"

"Go to bed, Ruth." said Father, quietly.

"It's still daytime!" Ruth protested, nodding towards the bright light streaming through the windows. She'd been allowed to come home early from Gregor's place, due to her soiled dress. She certainly didn't intend to come home from work only to be banished from a discussion like a little child.

"Go to bed, I said!"

"Colin..." Mother tried to intervene, unsuccessfully.

Ruth faced her father squarely, both hands on her hips. Angry, sullen, and hurt, she let months of emotions overflow. In a shaky voice, her bravado betrayed by her own tears, she shouted, "I'm not a child anymore, Father! I'm twenty years old! I have a job and I'm capable of my own thoughts! You'll not send me off to bed like a little girl anymore!"

Mother let the dishes slump into the basin. She hurried between her warring family members, uncertain who to hold and scold first.

Father didn't give his wife a chance to speak. He glared at his daughter. "Very well. Stay up if you want to. I shall go to bed." With that, he strode purposefully from the room.

"Oh, Ruth." Mother shook her head, then followed Father to their chambers.

This left Ruth all alone in the room she had been so determined not to leave. She sobbed softly as she finished the dishes, put out the fire, and made her way to bed.

Now what was she to do?