The clock struck one.
Jessamine ran from the hall, her torn dress trailing behind. The pink silk was muddied and ripped, but it still glittered in the moonlight.
She ran for the pond; it was still and calm. She threw herself onto her knees and cried.
Tears ran from her cheeks in an everlasting waterfall. They fell into the still water, disrupting the peace and sending waves every which way.
She had no idea the impact she had made that night.