Justine was alone as she walked through the crowded square of King's Cross station, her father was supposed to have been with her, but something had come up ("A work thing," he'd said with apologetic eyes, before sending the young girl on her way). Strangely enough, she wasn't disappointed, she wasn't even annoyed, if anything she felt a cool resignation.

Though, she couldn't help thinking it would have been nice to have her father around, at least to help her with her trunk.. Justine shook her head, physically shaking the sentimental thoughts from her mind, this wasn't the time, nor the place for a pity party and as Justine dragged her to the trolley cart, she straightened out her back and held up her head, all former signs of melancholy wiped from her visage.