Chapter Seventeen
In which he faced her mother.
- Ayne Kent.
One might not
understand fear until they have to explain to their Mother—who they know in their entire lives as the epitome horror itself— as to why they didn't sleep in their own rooms for nine days straight. And not having an appropriate excuse also helps to increase this said fear.
I walked inside the house burning with absolute fear. My brain couldn't help but think about all the absolute ways on how I should run away from her if I ever did discover that she did indeed breathe fire when she's angry.
"Mother?"
What I didn't expect to see, however, was my Mother sleeping like a lamb in her office. Hundreds of papers were spread in her table as she looks like a mess that needed that kind of sleep.
