The morning came early, and Mia, glad that they didn't consider leaving her behind, was getting ready to go before the others. She was much better packed this time, with a split riding skirt and other clothing designed for travel.
She looked around her room, memorizing every detail. On her wall hung an embroidered scene of a bluebird perched on a tree branch, made by her grandmother as a birthday gift several years ago. The memory made her smile.
Her furniture was made mostly by her grandfather, painstakingly by hand. She ran her fingers along her wooden bedframe, the same color of wood as the rocking chair on the porch that was designated for her use.
She moved to the washbasin, an heirloom from a great grandparent, and gave herself a thorough scrub. Soon, she felt cleaner than she had since she'd left home in the middle of the night.
You can hide, but you can't run?