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HOME SWEET HOME?
“I don’t know what I’m so scared of,” I said, taking a glance at the tall building before us. “You’ll be alright,” promised Seth, grabbing my hand to help me with my anxiety. Without allowing my fear to take up more space in my head, I began walking to get to the main entrance, pushed the door open, and entered. Unlike the usual times, nobody seemed to be occupying the living area. “Where is everyone?” I asked Martha, the housekeeper. “They are in your sister’s room,” replied the woman, pointing in the direction of Anne’s room. Seth and I, thus, climbed the stairs to meet everyone and discovered that my father had told me the truth. Anne was actually sick. She seemed to be lying on the bed with her eyes shut. She appeared significantly weaker than the last time I had seen her.
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