⚜ Chapter Twenty-Five: Burn ⚜

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<< I'll burn everything to the ground. >>

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

I don't think [Name]'s dead.

Jemima stared at Norman's back as the albino mindlessly cleaned as if his life depended on it. She shared a concerned look with her best friend, Alicia. The curly-haired girl had already brought her theory up to her blonde friend, but she hadn't figured out how to break the news to Norman yet. Is this what [Name] would've wanted? To have Norman try to work away the grief, to the day he died?

She didn't know.

The paper in her hands crinkled as her grip on it tightened. The dark-skinned girl glanced down at it, reading over the two paragraphs, particularly the latter. The first detailed what the House actually was: telling her that everyone who had been "adopted" was dead - including the (h/c). The second, however, told her a different story. It was what the last paragraph held that told Jemima that her favorite older sister wasn't dead.

By now, Mother should've given you my music box. That song that I always sang to you as a baby? It came from this music box. It was my best friend's. He's not here anymore, though. I'm probably with him right now. Anyways, I want you to have it. You know the song by heart, and maybe this will make my death easier on you. I'm not going to say that as long as you have it, a part of me is with you, because I'm going to be there regardless. But maybe you'll remember me a little bit more if you have it. I'm sorry for lying to you. I'm not going to be there when you grow up. But you'll be okay. Emma told me to trust my family, so I will. Take care, Jemima.

Your sister,

[Name]

Jemima had searched for said music box, but never dared ask Isabella for the whereabouts of it. Even though she wasn't as smart as her older siblings, she had enough sense to know that asking would tell Isabella what she possibly knew. Considering the fact that Isabella hadn't given her any music box or made a move to do it, it was possible that [Name] hadn't been shipped out, and in fact, taken her music box with her.

Maybe this was wishful thinking. Even she knew that she was being far too hopeful. But the facts just didn't add up.

Across the room, Norman had finished the chores he imposed upon himself, and had resorted to just sitting down with a random book, flipping through it dejectedly. Jemima folded her letter into a small piece, trotting up to Norman nervously. Alicia followed her with a similar expression.

"Norman?" Jemima asked with a small voice. The albino looked up, relaxing at the sight of [Name]'s spies. He reached out and patted Jemima's head with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Do you two need something?" Norman's voice was barely above a whisper. Alicia shook her head.

"You just looked so sad today, so we," she glanced at Jemima, "wanted to help you get outside!" She mustered up a smile. "Staying inside isn't healthy."

Norman sighed, closing the book. "I know. But there's so much to do-"

"Don and Gilda said that they'll do the chores today," Alicia cut him off. "So it's okay for you to go outside."

"Please, Norman?" Jemima pleaded. "We don't want you to be sad all the time."

Reluctantly, the albino pushed himself up from the table. "Alright."

He allowed himself to be dragged out of the house, Alicia and Jemima flanking his side, each of them holding his hand. To his left, he saw Emma sitting under the tree where the trio had always hung around. Her eyes no longer had any light, and she kept her head down as Lani and Thoma attempted to comfort her. Norman's eye glinted knowingly as he and the blonde boy met eyes. To his right, Isabella had noticed him finally leaving the House.

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