After the Storm

28. Home not so sweet home

I'M BACK, KINDA. Sorry for such a long, super long, delay. I know this is a really, really, really late update. *Laughs sheepishly*. I made this chapter longer to make up for that (though it's a pretty crap compensation).

Warning: This chapter might have some flaws in it as I didn't really have time to edit.

Enjoy!

Goal: 50 votes and 40 comments
(Gotta decrease my expectations as it's been such a long while).

**********************

We were back in the Ambrose residence in no time, partly because Mr Ambrose had driven us like slaves, and partly because the prospect of good food and comfort in the Ambrose residence was sufficient motivation. Not that I was sure whether we would be allowed to stay, but a girl needs something to look forward to, doesn't she?

Throughout the journey, I was the one helping Samantha for neither of the pea-brained, good for nothing men could do so. Everytime she slowed down, Mr Ambrose would command her to catch up. Even a worm could tell that that wouldn't work.

When Samantha wasn't paying attention, I would pester Mr Ambrose about her, but I was always met by a wall of silence. I admit it, I was curious. I had never met someone like her.

"Finally!" I exclaimed as we neared the front door of the Ambrose estate. I quickened my pace. An image of smoked ham popped up in my head, fuelling me to move even faster.

A feast would be absolutely spiffing. My stomach rumbled in agreement.

The footsteps behind me fell short. I turned around impatiently. "Get a move on!"

Mr Ambrose and Karim stood next to Samantha who was crouching on the ground. Her body trembled so violently that her teeth chattered. She rocked back and forth, gasping.

"What happened?" I demanded and hurried towards them. I glared at my stoic employer. "What did you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything, Mr Linton?" He challenged me with his gaze. "It's not me. It's this place."

"What?"

"I have deduced that the bad memories she associates with this place trigger such panicked responses."

"Then do something about it!"

He glared coldly at me.

"You're her brother, aren't you?"

"Indeed."

I slapped my palm into my face in exasperation. "Move!"

"Pardon?"

"You're pardoned. Now move if you aren't going to help her now!" I pointed at Karim. "You too!"

Karim growled and retreated. As for Mr Ambrose, he didn't take kindly to me commanding him.

"Leave, Mr Linton. Unless you have experience in dealing with such."

"You're the one not doing anything. I can help!"

He looked at me straight in the eyes. "Who said I wasn't doing anything? Do you have experience in dealing with her anxiety?"

I faltered. "Yes..." One eyebrow on Mr Ambrose's perfectly sculpted face twitched. I hurriedly added -- to inject my words with more credibility, "I've been helping her for the past few days."

The last time this happened, Mr Ambrose was the one who dealt with it. You were practically of no help. The snarky voice in my head reminded. I wanted to ignore the bugger but it wasn't entirely wrong.