That winter in between fifteen and sixteen, while mild, had been a rough one for Belle and her family. Her mother, having fallen ill in the late autumn, had passed away, leaving this hole in their family and their hearts, despite Belle's loathing for the woman.

Belle still looked much like she had the first year Vadim had come to visit- small leaning towards scrawny, in almost every sense, alough she's lost a bit of the baby-fat from her face, leaving her slightly more slender than she had been. Much to everyone's confusion, she'd failed to 'blossom' like many young girls her age, though her mother had assured her father that it would happen, and that Belle was merely a late bloomer. Her mother had also given her some sort of potion, one that would prevent her voice from dropping and her body hair from coming in too thickly, and in unwanted places-such as her face. Nobody was the wiser of her little secret, of which she was now the only keeper. She knew it would only be a matter of time before Vadim learned the truth-after all, it was expected that they would consummate their wedding night.

Belle had packed all her most precious belongings, and was saying goodbye to her father, silently hoping he'd tell her it had all been one crazy dream, that she didn't need to go with Vadim when he arrived. As close as the two had become, Belle still didn't want to leave her childhood home, especially when her father needed her now, more than ever.