A bird flies overhead. Graceful wings glide upon a windless dusk. It makes a sound and she thinks it's the loudest thing in a hundred-mile radius. She stands by the pool and admires the sculptural combobulation in its reflection, loosely connected ivory blobs curve this way or that, peeking out from lush greens of the gardens. The high ceilings never did quite surpass its inhabitants' dreams. A modern castle if ever there was one, the Robinson house.

Wandering austere corridors, her fingers brush against walls and upholstery as strange furniture colours her memory. She remembers when her head barely reached past the giant chess set's pawn and her mother always teased that her visits here made her an incorrigible board game strategist. Though, now, her teacher is nowhere to be found.

Dust gathers on old prototypes while portraits of people whose smiles she can never return watch from their perch in the halls. No half-finished crochet games lay in the yard. Even as the sun threatens to dip past rolling hills, she still cranes her neck for an echo of brass from the music room. Laughter should fill the hidden passageways. There is only air.

She stops when her father ushers her back into the parlour. He's tired and so much older than she's ever seen him. A reminder of why they're here in the first place.

A/N:

Current WIP until I can finally get a feel for this story ( ._.) Meanwhile, I'm working on some other, unexpected, but equally related things… lol see you folks again soon!

(Tysm to all who gave this attention, though. Feel free to shoot me a message for a copy of the deleted chapters if you want.)