forum A Thousand Cranes // Rated PG-15 // Eris

Started November 30, 2018 by Deleted user

tune

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Hello Hello–

So here's the deal. This is not really an RP. It's more of a "Eris is going on a writing spree and would really like some feedback on it and she feels really comfortable on Notebook and would love to post it here so she's gonna."

A few warnings:

• There will be TRIGGERING CONTENT. If you are triggered by abuse/self harm/violence. Please either PM me first so we can chat or DO NOT read the story.
• It's a rough, very personal story. Be prepared to cry. I did.
• There is fluff. (not sure why this is a warning but gestures vaguely just in case.)
• If you have ANY issues please for the love of the old gods and the new JUST PM ME. Any hate comments on this WILL be deleted and I will be telling my friends on you. I have fierce friends.
• There is cursing.
• There will be sexual content. (Probably gonna slap an R rating on this at some point but idk when.)

I will only be posting to this once a day.

_{(Edit: Okay I lied….maybe twice a day) (Edit Edit: Okay I lied again. I'll make it work I promise. Writing is hard.)}

Any and all love is appreciated.
I guess that's it….
Enjoy!

ALSO ALL THIS IS COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL. THIS STORY BELONGS TO ME. COPY & PASTING IS CONSIDERED PLAGARISM.

According to Japanese tradition, anyone with the patience and commitment to fold 1,000 paper cranes will be granted their most desired wish, because they have exhibited the cranes’ loyalty and recreated their beauty.

Prologue:

It had been a particularly rough night, but now it was finally quiet. The little girl sat precariously on the edge of her tiny bed, her body quaking with the effort of sitting up straight, but she had to take care of her wounds. Or else step-daddy will get mad again.

It was all her fault, he told her, all her fault that he was doing this to her. She had burned dinner again. A mistake that she made too often. A mistake that he had to punish her for. Tonight, had been more hurtful that usual because stepdaddy had come home already angry from work. She had been hiding in the kitchen, struggling on homework, and dinner had just slipped her mind. When he saw, his rage was too much, and he struck.

The little girl hissed as she placed a band aid across the back of her pale hand, the last of the marks she had to cover. Closing the little first aid kit that she had stolen from the local supermarket, she made her way over to its hiding spot in her closet. On her way she passed the mirror over her dresser and got a peek of the blossoming bruise on her jaw. She stopped dead. There was no way to hide that one. She wouldn’t be able to go to school tomorrow with that. People would ask questions and stepdaddy hated questions. But if she didn’t go to school and he found out, he would punish her. Dread filled her tiny form and she pushed on to her closet and hid the med-kit amongst the clothes on the floor.

After, she dove under her bed for her hidden stash of colored paper and a large shoe box. Selecting a bright yellow sheet, she began folding and unfolding. She was so practiced by now that she did it almost absently, staring blankly down at the shape that began to take form. It was comforting, making this little origami, she had started only last year, and it provided the sense of safety that she desperately craved. She had heard a legend from a guest speaker in her class, that if you made 1,000 paper cranes that you would be granted a wish, any wish in the world. The little girl’s heart had soared, and she immediately learned the art herself, struggling frequently at first but was finally able to master it. If it meant that she would have a chance to wish her stepdaddy away and find mama again…she would take it.

She held up the finished product against the light of the moon shining in her window. The paper crane almost looked like it was flying through the midnight sky. With a small smile, the little girl took a pen and wrote the number 294 on the wing of the bird before putting it into the shoebox that was already filled with an assortment of brightly colored paper cranes. She stared at them for a moment, proud of herself, before putting them back in the dark corner underneath her bed.

A heavy thump startled her into action and she darted into bed. The sudden action made all her bruises bark in protest, but it was better than stepdaddy finding her still out of bed at this hour. She listened desperately for more sounds, but her blood was rushing in her ears. She hoped stepdaddy was just getting another beer and not coming to check on her.

When the house stilled yet again, she turned over painfully and gazed out her window to the sky above. A rough night meant that she couldn’t sleep out of fear, so she began to count the stars. Much like the folding of the paper cranes the repetitive act calmed her and provided a sense of safety. Despite what she had been through, she was able to fall asleep, wishing she had more than 294 cranes, but under the protection of the midnight stars.

((Grabs blanket and a cup of cranberry juice I'm ready, bruh!
Finishes reading I thought I was ready….))

Munching on some cookies happily. Adorable!//

The glass of the plane window fogged with every breath I took. I still found it odd to be breathing after what had happened over the last two weeks. Life, itself, seemed like a surreal dream. Almost like it was happening to someone else and I was a mere spectator floating above and watching the life a girl that looked alarming like how I once did.

But no, that wasn’t right, was it? This was me. I was living this life. I was…free.

That thought seemed to outrageous to be real. Freedom? Preposterous.

I refocused on the sky that moved peacefully on the other side of the glass. It was a mysterious shade of deep blue, still clinging to the last rays of the setting sun. Stars began slowly winking into existence and I began counting them, comforted by the familiar routine. I readjusted my aching body to settle deeper into the seat of the plane, a soft painful sigh escaping me. Continuing to count the stars that flecked to life just out of my reach, I tried yet again to ignore the reason that I was on this plane, the reason why a wondrous motherly woman sat beside me, a guard against the very world that seemed to want to snuff out my tiny existence. Tried, and failed. My lips moved silently, forming the names of the numbers as they sounded loud in my head, trying to quell the panic that was building slowly in my chest. I focused so hard on the night sky outside that my eyes blurred and struggled to maintain my vigil. Painfully aware of my broken mind, I continued to count.

Before long, my eyes grew heavy. I struggled with my consciousness. There was no way I’d allow myself to be so vulnerable in such a tight space filled with strangers. No. I couldn’t. But only after a few more minutes of me startling myself awake, exhaustion won, and I tumbled into the darkness of the quiet sky around me.

---

“Cassia, darling? Wake up. Cassia?"

A soft woman's voice breaks through my sleeping daze and I force myself to open my eyes. I have to blink a few times to clear my vision. A ceiling, too close above me. The space I am in is altogether too small. I panic and get up, only to find I am constrained. I can't move my hips. Panic levels rising, I gasp in a breath that is almost too large for my lungs. My body doesn't give me time to breathe out as I gasp for air again. My hands fly to my neck, my eyes widening in alarm.

How could I let this happen? Where the hell am I? Why can't I move?

"Cassia? Look at me. Look at me, Cassia." The woman's voice beside me keeps pleading. I realize she's been speaking to me ever since I woke up and started panicking. I'm hyperventilating just a tad too much to be able to listen to her, though. She doesn't give up. Jackie never gives up on me. She sits beside me a hand out stretched, her big brown eyes full of trust and reassurance. I focus on this when I finally meet her gaze.

"Count with me," Jackie says softly. "We’re going to take deep breaths to, got it? Here we go. One. Breathe. You're okay. Two. Breathe. You're on a plane. You're buckled in, that's why you can't move. Three. Breathe. You are on your way to Rochester, New York. Four. Breathe. Your heart rate is slowing down. Five. …"

As I look unblinking at Jackie, breathing and silently counting with her, my eyes fill up with tears. I'll miss her. I'll miss her so much. The counting method was her idea to help me pull myself out of panic attacks or even just to help when I'm upset. Start with knowing where you are, then counting your way up to breathing normally and being able to face the world again. It works, and right now it works again. My breathing slows, I get myself in check once more.

She is the only therapist that ever got through to me. Now she is leaving me, too. Things have gone so fast, too fast. But this is something that I should be no stranger too. Change and a wild whirlwind of events is the theme for my life. Yet I’m constantly knocked to the ground by each thing that happens. Jackie assured me that this part of my life is over, and I will finally be able to heal and live a life now that I’m “free”. I haven’t had the heart to tell her that I don’t believe her. That it sounds too good to be true for this to be happening to a girl like me. The other shoe will drop, and I’ll be adrift in a sea of darkness once more. Jackie won’t be around to save me this time either, she’ll be back home in California.

This life of mine was a never-ending cycle. Darkness. Saved. Darkness. Saved… I was getting tired. I knew in my heart there wasn’t much more that I could handle. The cycle began with my mother, who had left me in the dead of night in the hands of my step-father Peter. The creator of the darkness in my life and the darkness inside me. After being saved from Peter at the age of fourteen, I finally got to settle with a family in Los Angeles. My foster parents, William and Marie, had been so nice at first. There had been hopes of adoption.

They had two other foster kids, Heather and Chris. I didn't really like them, and we left each other alone, mostly. As most foster children do. They came from broken homes, just like me, although we found no comfort in bonding over our experiences. Heather had taken the art of being a bitch to a whole new level and I had quickly learned to stay out of her way when I found my books burnt in the fireplace. Chris preferred his own company. What he did in his room alone is still a mystery to me.

Life had been quiet. Normal or all its worth. But then Marie miscarried again, and she just collapsed into a shell of who she once was. It was like her light went out. She had gotten real nasty with us. Manipulative games were her favorite, which had reminded me so much of Peter that I had retreated further into myself. Shutting out even more of the world around me. She made it damn sure that I knew I was worth nothing. She got so depressed eventually that she had tried to end her life and had to be committed to a mental hospital. Heather and Chris were replaced swiftly, but they couldn't find a suitable home for me quickly enough.

It had taken seven months. Glitch in the matrix, file went lost, computer crashed, and I just had to wait. I didn't tell Jackie what was going on. I couldn't. From the second week after Marie was hospitalized William got drunk and dark. All hell broke loose, and history repeated itself on me. I thought it was just my deal in this life, so at first, I wasn't even that alarmed by it. The beatings were just physical pain. Something I was used to. Something I knew I could handle if I just stayed quiet. But then when he thought he could come to my bed at night, it was harder to ignore. That was worse. So much worse. A darkness that blinded me in panic and fear. That night, I snapped.

Although I couldn't tell her what happened, Jackie had understood immediately when I showed up at her house at 2 am on a Saturday night. She brought me to the hospital, holding my hand tightly as doctors poked and prodded. She insisted I stay with her for the couple of weeks it took her to find me a new home.

She looked apologetic when she told me she'd found the perfect family for me.

In Rochester, New York.

I cried.

She showed me pictures of the family. They did seem very nice. A young woman, her husband and her twin niece and nephew who were a year older than me. They were all exceedingly handsome, so going to stay with them felt wrong with my ugliness alone.

I would leave in two days.

I cried some more.

Now here I am, on a plane, on my way to yet another new life. I had fallen asleep, which alarms me. I have let down my guard, falling asleep in a strange environment. This is a dangerous mistake. I scold myself for being so careless. I sat up a little, my stiff body protesting loudly to the movement. Apparently, I had slept for most of the long flight across the country. I wondered idlily if there would be a new collection of bruises to go with my old ones. My breathing is calm once again and my heart rate has settled back to somewhat normal. I peeked quickly around the plane, nervous around so many people.

"We will land in ten minutes." Jackie says softly when I meet her eyes again. I nodded slowly, looking down at my hands as they knotted and unknotted in my lap. I am scared. Everything that I once knew, everything that I am familiar with is 3000 miles away now. This is all alien to me now. The only constant, the only comfort, I have is Jackie. Who is looking at me with shining eyes.

She was the one that insisted on joining me on my trip from Los Angeles to Rochester. Although I hate that she is going through so much trouble for me, I like that she came along. Both for having her near and for not having to travel alone which is altogether much too overwhelming for me.

I sit back and close my eyes. The tightness in my chest will not let up. I squeeze my hands tighter to hide their shaking. For Jackie, I will be strong enough to do this. For Jackie? Anything. I breathe steadily and count along in my head.

In, one two; out, one two.

"You're doing great," Jackie says reassuringly, her voice conjuring images of warm cocoa and late nights of violin music. "Shall I tell you what will happen when we land?"

I nod, not opening my eyes. The soft drum of the airplane is almost reassuring, her voice even more so. I listen to Jackie’s words, telling me that after we land, we'll go to collect my luggage. Then we will go to the exit, where Emmy and Nick will be waiting for me. Just them, per Jackie’s request. She knows too many people will send in into a panic. Jackie warns me gently that the airport will be crowded with people and that some will likely bump into me. They don’t mean me any harm. I open my eyes and look at her warily at this remark. I'm not so sure about that, but what am I going to say? Jackie seems certain of herself. Besides, I think to myself, when has she ever been wrong?

I nod to her in acceptance of the plan. The plane lands with a jolt and I instantly tense. A new day, a new life. Jackie has never given me a reason to doubt her, so I should be able to get up and walk towards my fate.

I've survived a living hell. Twice. The price I paid for coming out the other side was my voice. I still had my life but, realizing with a blink of surprise, I’d willingly give that up for a chance at happiness.

Emmy and Nick are as nice as they looked in the picture. They almost look like models as they stand by just beside the baggage claim. Nick is a stunningly handsome brunette man with black square glasses that perch precariously on his nose. He has a type of natural and easy charisma that blows you away. Emmy is easily as pretty, with blonde hair and gentle blue eyes. She just radiates love, I don't know how else to put it. It’s almost as if there is a sun underneath her skin that shines and radiates the kind of warmth and love that makes the world go around. They wear expensive clothes, which immediately makes me feel even shabbier than normal. They are both beaming as they spot Jackie and I through the crowd.

You can tell that Nick is a doctor. It's some sort of air about him. His eyes do a quick scan of everyone around us, with an intensity and focus that only comes from years of study and confidence. Emmy is more artfully messy, which I would assume comes with being a graphic designer. Jackie told me that Emmy works from home and she paints and sculpts during her free time. For the first time, I wonder what the siblings are like. Jackie has told me very little. Probably her cue for me to learn for myself and try to make friendly connections with others. I don’t tell her that it’s an incredibly daunting task that I shy away from. But I do still wonder. Will they be hard to deal with? Will they be accepting of my intrusion into their home? Right now, I'm too tired to be wary of possible upcoming fights.

Emmy and Nick. I study them silently and they study me back. This I’m not prepared for. They are so welcoming. So…happy… to be here with Jackie and I. Their gentleness sets me on edge a little. Mostly because I can tell it's genuine. That frightens me. What will happen when I do something wrong? That gentle kind nature can turn on a dime. That I know for sure. I'd rather have cold and distant. At least I know how to handle that.

We sit down at a diner walking distance from Jackie’s next gate for food and drinks. Emmy and Jackie are old friends and use this time to catch up, while Nick frequently interjects into the conversation with silly jokes that makes them both laugh. While it would seem that they are ignoring me, it’s the exact opposite. They all sit with me included in their circle and frequently send me smiles or an encouraging wink. I’m startled by this. I’m used to being a shadow that everyone ignores.

Hot chocolate is ordered for me, it’s my favorite, but I don't drink it. I rather not eat or drink with people around me, it makes me so incredibly nervous. Plus, hot liquids hurt to swallow right now. The three lower their voices slightly to talk about the current situation and I see that Jackie gives Nick my file.

He knows everything about me, I have been told. Knowing this, I cannot meet his eyes. Emmy knows, too. She looks at me with big blue searching eyes, but doesn't try to make conversation, fortunately. They must know I won’t talk about what happened or at all. I’d rather listen to what they might have to say. I don't look at her, either. The kindness in her eyes still startles me. I don't want pity. Nor do I deserve it. She's read my file. She must know that. The siblings don't know. I have made it very clear that as far as I'm concerned, no one in Rochester but Emmy and Nick will know. They have agreed with no objections, which suited me fine. I’d rather keep the hell that I’ve lived within myself.

Of course, I will have to go to a new therapist here. That thought is almost panic inducing, simply because I know this new therapist will not be Jackie; will not be like Jackie. Another person knowing my story gives me the jitters as well, but this is something I know that I cannot get around. I’ll just have to be silent and sullen during my appointments with them.

The thought of Jackie leaving me here shortly makes my eyes fill up with tears. I frown and try to blink them away. I’m not one that outwardly shows pain. That is a punishable offence as I’ve learned. Instead, I look up at Jackie to memorize her face. Her soft, brown hair that never does what she wants, but so long that she can tuck it into a pocket in her pants if she wanted. Her big brown eyes, her mouth that is never not smiling and has told me countless reassurances I’ve actually wanted to believe. Her dark skin and her extravagant clothing. She's the only person I've ever considered to be a mother figure to me.

Jackie feels my gaze and looks at me. "You are going to do great, you know?" She smiles wider, flashing her white teeth. "I just feel it. This time will be right."

Like I said, I want to believe her.

All too soon, it's time to go. As we walk towards the entrance of the airport, my feet feel like concrete. I don't think I will be able to pull this off. No matter how many times I’ve said I’ll be strong for Jackie, I can feel the weight of the other shoe looming over my head, preparing to drop. Of all the hurt I've had to bear in my life, this particular one is going to break me. I'm sure of it.

What is going to happen to me now? What am I getting myself into? I feel like I'm drowning in a strong current, and all I can do is float along, trying to keep my head above the water, and bide my time until my feet can find purchase on the ground again. Knowing my past and the unforeseen future, I doubt that I’ll ever find solid ground again.

Emmy and Nick walk on my left, Jackie is on my right. They’ve formed almost a protective barrier around me without even really noticing. I look down at the floor. My throat feels thick with unshed tears. I feel like a coward for not fighting. But then again, would it really make things better if I dropped down to the floor and started a fit? Jackie wouldn't, couldn’t, take me home with her. She made that clear when we discussed my potential new family for the first time. I understood the reasoning. As her patient she cannot have more than a professional relationship with me. She cannot be my caretaker. The fact that she has helped me over the last two weeks has been extraordinary and against any and all rules. I am aware and very grateful of everything she has done and sacrificed for me. She wouldn't let me go with just any family. Right?

Still, it feels like yet another splinter that's pushed deeply into my heart. Jackie is the only person I could trust. My subconscious whispers evilly that this woman is sending me away with strangers. Across the country. Quite convenient, no? But no. If I believe that, that would mean there really is nothing left. That there really is no one in this world that cares about what happens to me. The thought alone is so sad that fresh tears threaten to escape again. With a swallow that sears my throat, the tears vanish. They pain that they accompanied takes up residence in my chest. We walk on towards the glass doors that are slowly becoming bigger as the end of my time with Jackie draws near.

The grey cloudy sky comes into sight as we reach the exit of the airport. Nick is rolling the cart with my suitcase on it. I'm carrying my own backpack. All my worldly possessions fit on one cart easily. It shows how much space I take up in this world. For some odd reason I can’t take my eyes off it. My suitcase looks too shabby for Nick to be pushing. I look too shabby for this family to be taking me in. Panic begins to set in. Oh God. What if they can’t stand me because I don’t fit into their perfect beautiful unit? Will they throw me out? Will I suffer a life on the streets? I have no place to go back to. I’m not sure how Jackie would react to me showing up on her door step again. My hands begin to shake. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh G-

"So, then," Jackie sighs derailing my thoughts completely. I look up at her with wide eyes. We are standing outside now. How had I not noticed?We’re under the canopy of the big exit of the airport, waiting for Nick to pull the car around. Emmy is standing to the side with my case, quietly waiting for Jackie and I to say goodbye. It's pouring, the rain slapping the ground with such ferocity I wonder how it doesn’t give way. Jackie comes to stand in front of me and makes me meet her gaze. She must lean down some since her tall willowy frame towers over me. "I have so much faith in you," she whispers in earnest. "I just know that you are going to be all right. You are strong, my Cassia. Never forget that you are more than your past."

I pull my lower lip between my teeth, biting down harder than I want because my jaw clenches tightly. At this exact moment, everything is all wrong.

"I have to go back inside, Cassia, because my plane will leave soon. Will you promise me one thing?"

I nod hesitantly. The look in her eyes will make me do anything she says. Her brown skin glistens in the faint light of the day as she smiles at my response.

"Will you e-mail me? Or, better, call me?"

E-mail, I might try. Call? Then what? Tap in Morse code on the receiver? Jackie can be a little ridiculous sometimes, but still I nod again. I want desperately to hug her, but my body just freezes as soon as the thought enters my mind. So instead, I hug myself tightly, my ribs protesting with a wail that causes my breath to stop for a second. A single tear escapes my eye and runs down my cheek. Dammit. I blink furiously to try to stop but the action only causes more tears.

Jackie copies my gesture and hugs herself tightly, too, her eyes conveying the message that it's me she wants to hug. Internally, I’m screaming for it, but my body remains frozen a few feet from her. She cries too, I notice, and we both smile awkwardly through our tears. Jackie only wants the best for me. This I know. I could love her, I think. But I'll never know, won't I? One, I don’t even know if my heart is willing to try to love again. Two, she’s going to walk out of my life. There's nothing I can do. This is goodbye. I find out right now that I hate goodbyes.

"Don't forget to count," Jackie whispers, her voice husky. Her sadness kills me. We've become so close over the last couple of weeks. She really saved my life. But I must face it, I am just one of her patients, a case with a number. That bitter, dark piece of me wonders if she'll still talk with me when social services no longer pays for her to.

I nod at her, for the third time. Nick has pulled up in an expensive looking SUV and is now quietly speaking with Emmy as he loads my case into the back. Until now, the notion of going with them hasn’t been real but seeing my belongings in that car has me shaken. I swing my head around to Jackie, my eyes wild. My jaw tenses as a sound threatens to escape from behind my lips. Jackie meets my eyes and then with a sound like a bark of pain, she abruptly turns and walks back into the airport, leaving me with two strange people I have met only an hour ago with whom I will have to go and live with until I am at least eighteen.

Well, fuck my life.

whoah this is so good omfg

_{(Grabs blanket and laptop I'm here and it's so gudddd)}

I look after Jackie until I no longer can find her among the thrum of people that occupy the airport. My heart, that was already shattered in pieces, crumbles just a little more.

See? My dark bitter mind whispers, it's dangerous to have hope. Shouldn't you know that by now?

A gut-wrenching sob escapes me, and I just keep staring at the point where I last saw Jackie. My tears won't stop anytime soon again now, I can tell. I curse myself for showing this weakness as I wipe my face angrily with the sleeve of my oversized sweater.

Behind me, Nick clears his throat softly. When I turn to him, he gives me a handkerchief. How gentlemanly. I take it from him and wipe my face again. Damn those tears. Damn this weakness. Damn it all. I promised myself I would never cry again when I was fourteen and Peter was arrested. The whole endeavor with William has set things loose again, and now I can't seem to be able to stop.

"Cassia, are you ready to come home with us?" Emmy asks softly and yet I still jump as if she yelled. She smiles in apology as she opens the back door for me.

No.

I nod, weary.

"Do you need to use the restroom before we go? It’s not too long of a ride but…," Emmy lets the sentence die as she waits for a response from me. I can tell she's trying to be considerate, given the fact that I cannot voice my needs. Literally. I shake my head. Any bodily fluids I might have carried have evaporated with the constant flow of tears that doesn’t seem to have an end as they make tracks down my face. My eyes are so sore already. A major headache is steadily building behind my eyes. I climb carefully into the back and perch precariously on the seat. I don’t want to get their car dirty. Emmy sits in the back with me and smiles reassuringly.

I find I like her smile.

Yet, how do I make it clear to them that I do not deserve any form of pity? Isn't it horrible enough that they wanted to bring me into their home? Do they get a kick out of that? Pick the most broken girl and fix her right up. I shake my head to myself. There's no such thing as altruism. Don't they know it's all my fault? It's surely my fault that Jackie is currently boarding a plane back to Los Angeles and I am here, stuck in a place where the sun apparently never shines. Everything that has happened in my life has been the result of my actions. I do not deserve this chance.

I cross my arms and legs and settle for an unseeing gaze out of the window. I'm trying to shut down my mind a little. I don't want to think. My head throbs. I’m slowly reaching my breaking point and I’m so exhausted. This day has been too much.

For the first half hour of the drive, my new caregivers don't try to get me talking, which is fine by me. They talk to each other. It sounds like normal conversation about their day, about the twins and how they are doing in school. Good, apparently, but the girl, whose name I miss entirely for its oddness, needs to study more for calculus. They never mention me or try to bring me into the conversation. It’s like I'm not even there, and that surprises me, I must say. What surprises me too, is that there is no litany of rules, or threats, or warnings. How…bizarre.

When we have about ten minutes to go, however, Nick starts speaking to me. I mentally brace myself. I feel so alone right now. So tiny in this big world of unknowns. My hands clench. "Well, Cassia, I know this has been a rough day for you. We are almost home now. When we get there, I want you to know that only Iona will be there. Declan is out and about, so you can get adjusted a little."

I almost huff. But I don't. I've lost my spunk, I think. Or maybe I'm just scared shitless.

I nod. He’s got a nice voice. Emmy is nodding beside me. Her eyes eager and welcoming.

"I'm not going to bother you with questions or reassurances or anything. Emmy and I think you'll do best if you make yourself at home on your own terms. As promised, the twins don't know about your past. I felt obliged to tell them you can't speak, however, as you may understand."

I nod again. I'm not really excited at meeting my new family. Curious but wary. I'm just… tired. No, not tired. I'm empty. Hollowed out by recent events. I don't have a clue how I could ever fix that. Or even how to fix me. I don't know how anybody would ever want me in their life.

Emmy and Nick stay quiet for the rest of the ride. I'm gazing out the window, wondering vaguely how green it all is here. I can barely make out the side of the road through the rain, but it's almost like green filters have been placed over the windows. I cannot see the separate trees that must line the road.

We drive through the town. Which surprises me, I wasn’t aware that they lived remotely from even the suburb of Rochester city. Before long, we leave the houses behind us and are on a road that seems to lead right into the forest. This makes me nervous. I’ve always been in big cities but now the area around me in empty. Just trees. We turn into a paved path I never would have noticed from the main road, and the forest gets thicker around us. I'm getting a little more alarmed now. It would be just my luck to end up with a serial killer couple.

It turns out to be a driveway. After about a mile or so, a house comes into sight. No, not a house. A mansion. Its familiar, but it looks even bigger than in the picture Jackie had shown me. It's painted a brown that fits perfectly with the forest around it. Huge windows let in all the light the sky can provide. A large underground garage must be able to hold at least four cars. To the left, broad steps lead up to a porch filled with brightly blooming flowers. The first floor is brightly lit and open to the world with those windows and two more stories rise above that.

Holy hell. I thought these things only existed in movies?

Nick stops the car just before entering the garage and kills the engine. He gets out and walks around to the back of the car to get my suitcase out. Emmy stays in with me. She takes her seat belt off and faces with that same warm smile.

"Are you ready?" she asks softly.

No. I am scared out of my wits. I can feel myself shaking. Besides, I'll really have to tell her to not use those words with me. It was the exact same thing Peter used to taunt me with before…

Stop.

I snap the rubber band that's around my right wrist, and wince at the pain. The skin on the inside of my wrist is constantly bruised purple from all the times I snap the band. Emmy notices and her smiles falters a bit, but when she looks up at me again I see steely resolve and…strength in her gaze. I glance down at the band. It's supposed to stop any negative thoughts. Although that part doesn't really seem to be working, I keep on doing it as the physical pain is so much easier to bear than the pain of my memories. Easy to process and move on.

I pull up the hood of my sweater, then open the car door and get out. Thick drops of rain fall on my head immediately. An odd feeling that, according to Jackie, I’ll have to get used to. I walk up to the steps to the porch to get myself out of the rain. Nick is already there, my suitcase in his hand. Emmy follows behind me.

The reality of the situation finally crashes down on me. I'm here. This will be my home. I can't leave. This is my new life, and I'll have to deal with it. I cannot even run if I want to, because we're miles from the town. Plus, where would I go? There really is nowhere, or no one, I can go to if this ends Badly. No, my mind sneers, you mean if you fuck up. Shh. Don't think that. Please. I will be good. I will. I promise.

I back away to the corner of the porch, near the stairs. I'm very uncomfortable with the thought of setting foot inside this house. I have a strong feeling that once I do, there will be no going back. Emmy notices my hesitation, but she doesn't say anything. She just observes. Nick does as well. Silently holding vigil by the door. They both look like they would be fine standing out here all night if that’s what it took for me to feel okay. I’m baffled.

Then I see a girl standing behind the big windows that look out on the porch. She must be Iona, I saw her in the picture. She’s positively fae; with black, wavy hair, fierce eyes and willowy posture. As soon as she sees that I have noticed her, she stands grinning widely. My god she’s tall. As tall as Emmy. I’m going to live in a house of giants.

She darts to the door in a few steps and flits out on the porch, but Nick warns her with just one word.

"Iona."

She stops to look at him, and I wrap my arms around myself in anticipation. I glance at the forest behind me, calculating how far I could make it if I bolted, but with my clumsiness, I'd probably just fall on my face before I was down these stairs. That had happened before, hadn't it? When William…

Stop.

I want to snap the rubber band, but I can't because I'm still frozen, looking from Iona to Nick. Iona huffs at him and waves his warning away with a careless elegant hand.

She. Defies. Him.

(this is amazing
you're such an amazing writer)

I hug myself tighter hold my breath.

I really don't want to know what will happen next. Or maybe I do. Brace myself for what I'm thrown into. My shoulders hunch up in preparation for the reprimand. Might as well get it over with. This is what I've deserved for what I've done wrong.

But nothing happens.

Iona just huffs and then gingerly steps forward to me, blocking out Nick from my view. She pauses about three feet away, which makes me tense up further, but I can't back out without having to step down the stairs of the porch, which I really don’t want to do as I notice that the rain has picked up. I’m trapped.

Emmy has noticed my gaze. Good Lord, what doesn’t she see?

"Hi, Cassia," Iona chimes in a sweet, somewhat low voice. Its sultry. "I'm Iona. We are so glad you are finally here! Did you have good trip?"

I look at her, dumbfounded. She's nice, too. Fully sane, as far as I can tell. Am I dreaming? Because it'll be a handsome mindfuck when I wake up. Damn my subconsciousness.

"You must be tired. Shall I show you around the house?"

Before I can answer, she holds out her hand to me. I eye it suspiciously and look back at her. I cannot take her hand. Have they not told her that? Iona checks herself and then moves her arm a little, making it a general gesture of invitation. After a moment of hesitation, I follow her into the house.

I can do this. I will have to. But I am so scared. So lonely. I want to cry. I feel like a convict that sets foot in prison, knowing that he will never step outside again. I take a deep breath, grit my teeth and step over the threshold. It feels like it's a mile high. This house of giants.

The house is beautiful, of course. Floor after floor and room after room filled with gorgeous furniture and extraordinary artwork. All made by Emmy, Jackie had hold me. I'm shocked into silence — no pun intended. The James twins each have their own room (bigger than any room I’ve ever had and then some), and they each have their own unique style. The rooms are relatively tidy, but not overly so. There's a peaceful atmosphere in the entire house. Like it’s been well lived in. Loved in. Laughed in. My heart aches. This is a home.

In her room, Iona shows me the dress she is making herself on her mannequin. The dress is really very pretty but I’m distracted as she explains that she wants to be a designer and talks seriously about the industry and how she worries about competition in the schools that she’s applied to for college. Iona tells me solemnly that I'm always welcome in her room, to watch a movie, to socialize, or anything. She wants to be my friend, she says. She wants me to feel welcome and comfortable.

I don't have the guts to warn her away from me when she looks at me with those big ice blue eyes.

They have a library that is so vast I can cry at the wonder of this treasure. They tell me I can use it freely and as often as I want, as they are told I like to read. They are wrong. I love to read. I’m hesitant at this gift and make a mental note to always ask permission to use this beautiful space.

Outside the library is a baby grand piano which they say is Declan's, and only Declan plays. I hear the warning in their voice. This I can relate to. This is a solid rule. I'm relieved that there is at least one thing I can be certain about. I worry quietly about my stolen treasure in my suitcase. I wonder how it survived the plane ride. I didn’t have a moment to research how it should have been transported. I will have to check on it when I am alone tonight.

My room is on the second floor at the end of the hallway. It's carefully decorated, with earthy tones, deep rich colors. Greens and browns and a bit of blue that I love immediately. It's peaceful, very balanced. The bed is in the middle of the room, a desk stands against the wall to the right of it. There's a laptop on the desk. At the far wall, two doors lead to my own bathroom and a walk-in closet that is almost as big as my bedroom at Marie and William’s house. The left wall is what gets my attention, however, as it is completely made of floor-to-ceiling windows with a perfect nook seat with comfy looking pillows for reading. I feel guilty to be occupying such a pretty room. It must be their guest room, considering it has its own bathroom attached. The twins don’t have that. I’m nervous at this show of difference. Surely, a mattress on the ground would have sufficed for me?

Iona leaves me to get to know my room a little. I stand at the window-wall and look outside. All I can really see is the green of the forest around the house, but they tell me that there is a great lake nearby that they visit during the warmer months. Now it's green, grey and misty with rain. I miss the sunny Los Angeles sky already. It's cold here. I'm cold. I don't think I will ever get warm again. I miss Jackie.

Nick clears his throat before he steps into the room with my suitcase. He puts it down near the door, then turns to me. I take a step backwards, cautiously. I'm not sure what to do now. They have not set me any rules yet, other than to keep away from the piano. Best to keep on my guard. I do not want to provoke them. Promised I’d be good.

"Why don't you come downstairs with us," he offers, smiling gently. I hesitate. "Let's have a drink and then you can unpack later."

He holds out his arm in invitation, but when I don't move, he nods and walks away from the door. I let my breath escape.

I hadn't even realized I was holding it.

~
Iona insisted she wanted to sit next to me on the couch and so she is, about a foot away from me. I don't like her so close, but I can handle it, maybe. She's trying not to look at me as much, but I know she's staring at me like she's never seen another human girl before. Her looks make me nervous only because I feel as though she is looking right through me.

It has taken her exactly ten minutes to find out I can, and sometimes will, answer to yes-or-no questions. Mainly she's talking about her odd little family, telling me a little about each. She and her brother, Declan, were orphaned when they were toddlers. Emmy, her father’s sister took them into their care when she was only 24 years old. She got married only a few years later to her high school sweetheart, Nick, after putting off the event because of her newfound responsibility as the caretaker of her niece and nephew. Unable to have children of their own, Emmy and Nick decided to start fostering in hopes of adopting one day. The cases that they had been dealt were on the more difficult and heart wrenching side. The last child that had lived here had died due to a terminal disease. The death took such a toll on the family that they had decided not to foster again for some
time. It had been five years since then. Iona said that it was because of Jackie that Emmy and Nick were ready to bring me into their family.

It made me a bit more comfortable to know that Jackie had also worked her magic on my new caretakers long before me. She just knew how to be the support system that someone needed. I was so profoundly grateful to her and it seemed my new family, even Iona and Declan, had once been her patients as well.

“…all the fun things that we can do once you’re settled in.” I try to listen to Iona, I do, but I'm starting to get hungry and my painkillers are wearing out. I'm dead tired of my trip here and all the new things. It's only 4pm. I’m tense and it’s only getting worse as I sit here as my energy depletes.

Emmy and Nick sit opposite of me. They talk a little with Iona and try to engage me in the conversation. They treat me like the person they have just met, but at the same time the knowledge that I will stay here for a while hangs heavily in the room.

Emmy occasionally asks me if I am all right. I nod every time. I lie, of course.

I'm not comfortable, but I don't dare do anything that might upset them. I don't dare to ask for anything. Asking things is showing weakness. Weaknesses provide mighty weapons in the wrong hands. This is something that terrifies me so much that I lose my breath and struggle to refocus on the present.

So far, I've not seen much that could alarm me though. Iona has even snapped at Emmy and she wasn’t punished. Nick is calm too, collected maybe? There's nothing of the tension here that was thick when I was with Peter or William. But then again, they too had their own 'frequency,' maybe I still must find the right tune here.

God, what a metaphor for this. I hated it. I'm still just waiting for the other shoe to drop. The suspense is killing me though; I’m so tightly wound that I fear I may snap into a million pieces.

Then I hear a car outside, and moments later, the front door opens and closes with a thud. Nick and Emmy both look confused. “Dec said he wouldn’t be home until late…” Emmy says standing quickly.

"Iona?" a low male voice calls out. "I’m here and I brought mochi!”

Nick glances sharply at the girl in question. “You forgot to tell him, didn’t you?” Iona’s face paled and she shifted uncomfortably before shooting up out of the chair. “I did. I did. But I’ll fix it! No worries!”

She darts out of the room and I can hear her low voice speaking quickly to the man that just walked in. I’m frozen in my chair but look questioningly between Emmy and Nick. Aren’t they alarmed that someone just casually walked into their home? Emmy sees my glace and explains, “That’s Josh. Iona’s boyfriend. He usually comes over on the weekends. It’s such a routine that she seems to have forgotten to tell him to stay away today.”

I feel uncomfortable and look away. They’re going through such lengths to make sure I’m comfortable. Why should Iona make such a sacrifice for me?

Iona pops her head around the corner with a shy smile, “He’d like to meet you if that’s okay? It’s up to you.”

I nod quickly despite the panic that sears through my body at the thought. I don’t want to be a burden. It’s their lives that I’m intruding on. They shouldn’t have to change anything for me. I can always just hide in my room whenever they have guests anyway. I’m used to that. For sure. If I’m going to live in this house, I might as well get to know everyone that comes and goes as soon as possible. Iona flashes me a brilliant smile and ducks back out of the room.

"Come on in, honey!" Emmy calls in her warm voice. I'm beginning to think that she’s entirely made of sunshine, despite what she’s gone through in the past. How does she do it?

My thoughts get derailed when the door behind me opens, I turn around so quickly it dizzies me. My breath comes a little faster and I force myself to remain somewhat calm. Josh stands in the doorway with a wide grin on his charming face. He's tall, well-built. His eyes are as hazel and crinkled at the corners from the force of his smile. His blond curls are dripping from the rain and he rakes a hand through them to keep his hair from falling into his eyes. He spots me and stalks forward, his hand outstretched. "Hi!"

Nope. Nope nope nope.

Alarm bells go off in my head and I fly up from the couch, walking backwards, away from this man that is approaching me at rapid speed. I back away until my back hits the wall, hard. My hands are splayed out on the wall near my hips, to keep myself steady and to gain some comfort out of the solid bricks behind my back. My heart is hammering in my chest from the shock. Whether this is the shock from Josh approaching, or my own reaction, I don't know. I don't have room in my head to figure that out right now. The back of my mind screams at me that I'm acting ridiculous, but somehow, I cannot seem to snap out of it.

(Cassia: thinks something self depricating
me: NO! :((( )

Josh has stopped moving and stands frozen, his outstretched hand hanging in mid-air. There is fear in his eyes. Why should he be afraid? "I-I'm sorry," he stutters. Realizing his hand is still out, he lets it drop to his side. "I didn't mean to scare you," he whispers looking down at Iona then back to me. "I'm so sorry."

Finally, I can glance around me and register things. Iona is still standing behind the couch and she looks dangerously pale with shock. Emmy is still standing up, her arms outstretched as if to ward of Josh and I, but she's not moving. She has a shocked look on her face as well. Nick still sits down, his eyes darting from me to Josh and back again.

There is danger in this room. Right? I was right to react this way. My eyes dart around the room looking for the danger, but when nothing happens and the seconds tick by, the realization is dawning on me that I am the threat in this room. I'm the reason they are acting so alarmed.

"Breathe, Cassia." Emmy says then.

Again, it seems I've been holding my breath. I exhale shakily and then gasp for air so fast it makes my head spin. My lungs, that were burning for the lack of fresh oxygen, thank me profusely. I frown. Everyone stays frozen in the room, and it's like time has come to a standstill. The weight of their eyes is making me so nervous, but I can’t move. I’m stuck. They are waiting for me to do something. I don't know what I should do. I'm certain now that there is no threat, but my body refuses to relax.

I'm shaken. The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind. Especially today, a day that has gone on forever. For the second time on this god-awful day, the reality of this all comes crashing down on me. I cannot even begin to try to put my sudden desolation into words.

I look around the room and see four pairs of eyes that look worried, but also very… compassionate? Somehow, this scares the living daylights out of me. I don't know the concept and the word feels unfamiliar in my vocabulary. My sense of self-preservation is begging me to run. Fast. My mind is not so sure of anything anymore. There is no safe place, not even in my own head. I need some space to think. I'm so confused… I need to get out of here. But where the hell do I go? I cannot go to that beautiful room that is “mine”. That's no place to hide. There has never been, come to think of it. Panic floods me. I have nothing. There’s nowhere safe.

Shit.

I close my eyes and my body fully utilizes this one moment I need to collect myself. But there is no collecting the million thoughts zooming through me. The bitter voice in my head reminds me again that I’m not anything more than a waste of space. My instinct takes over violently, and I bolt for the door. For once, I don't trip, and I run out of the house, down the steps of the porch, and into the thick forest that surrounds my new home.

It's fucking cold out here. It's still raining and my breath escapes from my mouth in white puffs. My breath is still hissing out between my teeth violently. I can’t seem to calm down. I’m overwhelmed and scared. This new world seems too big for me. I don’t know what to feel. I don’t know what to think. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

The big tree I am sheltered under is leaking thick drops of rain, the ones that always seem to find their way precisely into that tiny space between your skin and your collar, before seeking a path down your spine. I'm sitting with my arms wrapped around my knees. Soaked through my skin and shivering violently. But I’m not sure I want to go back. How can I ever go back? Either they will punish me — of which I'm very certain — or I've spoiled my chance with them and they will send me away.

Fuck. I think I screwed up.

I don't know where to go. I can't go back to Los Angeles, because I don't have my passport, nor any money to buy a ticket. As if I could ever even get my ass to the airport. I can’t drive, I don’t have a phone and again I don’t have any money…

As if Jackie would let me in.

She would, a voice in the back of my head whispers, but that's not how it's supposed to be. You promised her to give it a shot.

I did, but how do I go back?

"Cassia?" a voice calls through the woods. "Cassia, where are you? Please give me a signal."
It's Iona. I'm sorely tempted to remain in my suffering. I'm relatively hidden where I'm sitting, if I keep quiet she might not notice me.

"Cassia? We are worried about you. We are not angry, if that's what you are afraid of." She did sound worried and sad.

A memory forces itself on me violently. I close my eyes and frown and snap the rubber band on my wrist, but the images won't go away.

"I'm not angry, not at all," Peter croons as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I'm frozen in anticipation. My breathing is ragged and uneven. He's up to something, and even more unpredictable when his voice is silken like this. Peter’s hand moves from my hair to the back of my neck, where he takes my head into a vice-like grip. I stop breathing altogether.

"You've been such a good girl for me lately. Now, let's not give me a reason to get mad at you after all."

His hand squeezes my neck tighter before shoving me to the ground.

"There you are!" Iona’s voice snaps me out of my memory. I'm startled by her sudden appearance in front of me, although that's my own fault. I let my guard down. Again. I watch her warily.

Iona stops about three or four feet away from me and simply flops down onto the forest floor, so she is at eye level with me. She's getting her clothes all dirty. I don't want her to do that. It'll be easy for her aunt and uncle to blame it on me later and punish me.

"Josh is so sorry that he frightened you," Iona starts. "He never meant to scare you. I think you even scared him with your startled reaction." She smiles a little, her icy eyes warming up. "We're not mad at you, you know. Uncle Nick thought you might be worried about that, so I'm here to assure you that 'your actions will not have consequences'." She attempts to mimic his words as well as the way he must have looked when he spoke them but fails miserably. She’s trying to make me smile, I guess.

I just look at her with wide eyes.

Iona looks back at me for a long time. "It's not like you spoiled your chance with us, you know?" she finally asks softly. "Because you didn't. I don't know what happened to you, and maybe I don't even want to know. I just really want you to know that you are safe with us. You've obviously been through a lot and I want to tell you that I understand, but I can't. I cannot even begin to imagine what you have gone through to become who you are now. I want to be here for you though, be one of the people that you can lean on for support and love. Does that make sense?"

It does. So, I nod once.

"I can't imagine what it must feel like to be forced to start a new life with a new family, but I want you to give us a chance. Could you do that?"

I stare at this icy eyed goddess in wonder. Was she asking me if I would consider giving them a chance? Shouldn't it be the other way around? I should be begging on my knees to stay.

I am thoroughly confused now. When I don't move, Iona changes tactics.

"You must be so cold. I can see you’re shivering. Will you come back with me? We can get you some dry clothes. My aunt and uncle are not angry. Josh won't come out again if you don't want him to," she adds softly. "But he really is very sweet. He would like to apologize again before he leaves."

At this, I look at her in horror. No no, they can’t be changing their lives for me. I’m not worth it.

"You'll see how nice he is once you get to know him. But right now, you need to get dry and warm again. Will you please come back to us?"

I don't know what it is about this Iona, but she somehow convinces me to get up. My legs are stiff from sitting still for so long, but it's ignorable compared to the other injuries that I’m currently riddled with. She looks me up and down, then pulls off her coat and hands it to me. I take it hesitantly and then wrap it around my shoulders. It's too big for me, but it's warm from her body heat. Goose flesh erupts on my body in response to the savory warmth and I shiver involuntarily.

Iona leads the way and pulls out her phone to forewarn the rest. I follow her. I'm anxious, but I'm also cold. The thought of a hot shower and some dry clothes is starting to appeal to me, I have to admit. If they'll let me in, that is. They will, won't they?

Won't they?

My feet are heavy when I walk up the steps to the porch, but I grit my teeth and force myself to move. Once inside, only Emmy approaches us, carefully. Her eyes are red, it looks like she's been crying. Why?

"Oh, Cassia, I am so happy you decided to come back," Emmy breathes, her hand twitching as though she wants to touch me. "Come, let's get you upstairs and into dry clothes."

I freeze on the spot. What exactly does she want to do with me?

Emmy just holds out her arm in an inviting gesture and I'm too much a coward to refuse her. I want to get warm and dry, and right now, I'm willing to trade. She leads the way up to my room and I follow. My heart rate is picking up slightly. This is one of those rare moments I wish I were able to speak, so I could plead for forgiveness. It was stupid to have run.

I could have told her, I think bitterly to myself, since I know an intermediate amount of sign language and Jackie had told me that Emmy was fluent. My hands flutter up to the space in front of my chest, but a sudden shyness overwhelms me. What if my signing isn’t good enough? Will she ridicule my lack of knowledge as Peter and William did? My hands drop to my sides, defeated.

Up in my room, Emmy turns to face me. She looks so sad. Is that because I disappointed her in some way? What will she do? I bow my head in preparation of the reprimand, or the slap, either or, I’m prepared.

"I'm so sorry you felt you had to run," she whispers, looking at me with those blues. "I'll leave you now, so you can take a hot shower and warm up. You must be so cold. Do you have a change of clothes in your suitcase?"

I do, but they're all summer clothes courteous of California weather. I don’t have much in the way of clothes period, just what Jackie could buy me with her limited salary and on such a short notice. When I came to her, I had nothing with me, not even a toothbrush, I barely had clothes on that night. I shudder. The only sweater I have I'm wearing right now, and it's soaked. I don't dare to ask for something warm.

Emmy looks at me, opens her mouth to speak, but decides against it and leaves the room, closing the door quietly. This happens a lot when I meet new people. Simply because I don't speak, they get lost for words as well.

When Emmy’s footsteps have disappeared down the stairs, I go and check the door. I can see that it can only be locked from the inside. Somehow, this soothes me incredibly. I lock it with a satisfying click and turn to my tiny suitcase. It holds my few clothes, my toothbrush, my hairbrush, and my pills. There's also a notebook inside, which Jackie gave me. She wanted me to start and keep a diary. I didn't have the guts to tell her that my horrors are not notebook worthy, especially since most people would agree that it is enough to get me admitted. The notebook is untouched. I have not even opened it yet.

Underneath all my clothes is my secret. My prize possession that I had not even told Jackie that I had brought with me. Well… stolen and brought with me, but that’s no matter now. There was no way that I was going to leave without it. I pull the hard, black case into my lap and tap it with a gentle hand. My violin. Technically, the violin was property of my old high school in Los Angeles, but me being the klepto that I am decided that it would be permanently mine. I popped open the case and to my surprise and delight found that the instrument survived the trip. My fingertips trailed across the wood lovingly. It was the one thing that I was able to keep a secret from both Peter and William.

I’d been playing since I was introduced to violins in the fourth grade. When I entered high school, I had chosen it as an elective and my music teacher had truly helped me nurture my obsession. He pushed me to join the school orchestra, but that would require parent knowledge and William would have never let me have this one pleasure. So, I took the class and played in secret for years. It was dented and scratched to all hell, but I felt that we matched.

I closed the case with a soft sigh and placed it back in my suitcase. I wasn’t sure when I’d get a chance to play again. That thought made my heart ache. I wasn’t sure if I’d be allowed to play in this house. Declan had his piano, but Iona had mentioned that he hadn’t played in years. That music had become almost a taboo in this house. I frowned. Maybe my new school would have a class that I could join.

I pick my only other pair of pants, a pair of soft black jeans, out of the suitcase and three of my four tops. These I will wear on top of each other; a camisole, a long sleeve and a shirt. All black or grey. I will look a little ridiculous, but that's the least of my problems right now. I consider myself happy to have a fresh set of underwear and socks in the suitcase as well. It’s the little things in life.

When I pull the clothes out, I notice something on the bottom. I dig in and as soon as I realize what it is, tears fill my eyes immediately, blurring my vision. This cannot be real. I swallow thickly and pull out a thick quilt — Jackie’s quilt. The quilt I practically lived under while I was with her. She gave it to me, and she didn't even tell me. This is such a gift, such a surprise. A silent laugh/sob forces itself out of me as I think that Jackie definitely saw my violin case if she put her quilt in after I had packed. She saw it and didn’t say a word. I wonder why. I put the quilt to my face and inhale deeply. It smells like her home, like her. I bury my face in the thick fabric and let go. I cry.

After what feels like a century, but might have been fifteen minutes, I'm able to move again. I fold the quilt carefully and put it back in my suitcase. It's wet from my tears. I'll need to find a place where I can keep it safe, but right now, I'm exceptionally cold, wet, tired and miserable. I need to shower.

The bathroom is pretty and fully stocked. I was nervous about not having any body wash or shampoo, but it seems that the James family are forthcoming to their guests. Plush towels are on the shelf beside the sink. A large bathtub stands in the middle of the soft green tiled room. It's very retro, standing on copper clawed feet. I like it. I’ll have to find a time where I’m completely alone in the house to enjoy it, but for now I will have a shower. I lock the bathroom door and look around to memorize my surroundings. Then I turn off the light and start to undress.