The following day was a blizzard of white. The cold storm outside matched my insides perfectly.

I pulled back. No more speaking to Nathaniel in the cover of the night. No more personal discussions. He stayed home during the bad weather, but I tried my best to keep to myself and kept Mark in the room, though that was easier said than done. I cooked and cleaned and did the laundry, but I limited my interactions with him to frigid one-worded replies. I felt bad about it, but I stuffed the guilt deep inside where it wouldn't hinder my decision.

A day later, the weather seemed much better. The wind no longer howled and snow stopped falling. It was time to leave, before Mark got unnecessarily attached to this place.

And me too...

That morning, Nathaniel looked like he wanted to say something over breakfast, but he thought better of it and left for work.

I cleaned the kitchen and tidied up the house, and when the doorbell rang, I ran to the door. Claire. Just in time.

"Hey, I brought some fresh cinnamon rolls from the café," she said, holding up a pale blue box. Her nose and cheeks were red. Strands of black surrounded her face, escaping the confinement of the fur-lined hood. She stomped snow off her boots while I fetched two pairs of slippers from the shoe cabinet nearby. I helped Cecile with her boots and she skipped inside with her little pink backpack.

"Thank you," she said, following me inside. "Where is Mark?"

"Reading in the library. Coffee. Tea?"

"Coffee would be great, thank you." She set the box on the island. My mouth watered at the smell of cinnamon and sugar.

Cecile plopped down on her stomach on the couch, taking out a coloring book and a set of coloring pencils. I turned on the coffee machine and drummed my fingers on the counter. Nerves fluttered in my guts. Why was I worried?

Because I knew Claire would try to convince me to stay. And I needed her help with the tickets. She put three plates on the island before her attention snapped to me. "What is it?"

I blew out a breath. Let's get this over with. "I need your help with the tickets. The weather is going to be good enough in the upcoming days, so..."

"Oh." I hardened my heart against her crestfallen expression. "I was hoping you'd stay..."

I closed my eyes, gripping the edge of the counter until my hands hurt.

"We really can't, Claire. I'm sorry."

Claire sighed. She slipped out her phone from her purse. "Okay. Let's see the trip schedules first."

Heart racing, I stood next to her while she scrolled on her phone. "Do you prefer plane or bus?"

The plane would be more expensive, and I wasn't sure how Mark would handle being up thousands of feet in the air. "Bus."

After a few minutes, we were looking at a schedule. It confused me, but Claire apparently knew what she was looking at. We picked a date, a destination. My excitement sputtered to a halt at Claire's next words.

She frowned at the phone. "Okay, we'll need your ID. And I think they'll ask for permission to travel for Mark, but if you are his legal guardian... Daphne?"

I stared at Claire with wide eyes. My heart pulsed in my ears.

"ID... Can't I travel without an ID?" I asked, my voice wobbling. "And permission for Mark...?"

Claire's frown deepened. "If you're traveling outside the state, you'll need an ID. It's required by the law, I think. They've become quite strict with the measure lately. One of my employees forgot her ID when she was traveling and they didn't let her board. She had to go all the way back home and miss her bus. And Mark is a child, he needs..."

Claire's words garbled together.

"We got here by hitchhiking from out of town," I heard myself mumble.

"Did the thieves steal your ID, too?" Claire said. "That must be it. If we report it-"

"No!" I said, taking a step back. Panic squeezed my throat. I blinked, dots danced in my vision. "No, we can't... I..."

My head swam and the air thickened, I couldn't draw enough of it no matter how much I tried.

"Daphne," Claire put her phone on the island. Something beeped, but my heart drowned the noise. My vision dimmed and Claire's voice dulled. "Daphne, calm down honey. It's going to be okay, calm down. We'll find another way. I can drive you..."

Gasping for breath. I clawed at the air, trying to find an anchor as the world slipped between my fingers. Visions of the House melded into a monster in my head, rearing its ugly head and gawking teeth-filled jaws. Its laughter was Logan's demeaning smile and it spoke in his sickening voice.

"You thought you could get away... tsk tsk, naive little girl..."

How could I have been so idiotic? Of course it wouldn't be this easy to escape. They had established a whole system to keep their existence under the radar. They made sure no one could ever get away, and even if they could, they wouldn't get too far.

"No, no, no," I said between gasps, shaking my head. I stumbled and fell on the ground, covering my ears when Logan's voice got louder and louder. "No, I can't... I can't. Please, stop."

Hands on my shoulders. I flinched and backed away. Darkness swallowed my senses and everything disappeared.

"...tell me...know they were leaving until...."

"....you knew!! ... try to understand...."

"...it didn't work out anyway....cool your head..."

My brain slowly awakened. As the voices cleared up, I knew who was talking and what they were talking about. I blinked my eyes open. They felt gritty and sensitive. Memories came back of the big slap on the face life had delivered. I must have fainted.

Great...just great...

"Where's Mark?" I asked, taking the bickering siblings by surprise.

I sat up. Nathaniel and Claire were at the foot of the bed, talking with what they thought were hushed voices. Their brown eyes swung my way. Claire sighed heavily and came to my side.

"He's fine, still in the library. We didn't want to worry him."

Nodding, I rubbed my face. "How long was I out?"

"About twenty minutes," Nathaniel replied, tucking his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. He was still in his work suit. I glanced at the window. He shouldn't be home this time of the day.

"I called Nathaniel," Claire said, handing me a glass of water from the night stand.

"You didn't have to." I took a sip and gave it back with thanks. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

Claire was about to say something when Nathaniel injected. "Claire, could you give us a moment?"

Casting her brother a warning glare that he met head on with one of his own, Claire left us alone in the room, closing the door behind her.

"I didn't know you were leaving," he said, pacing back and forth in front of the bed. His eyes never settled anywhere near me.

"You knew we were leaving eventually."

He looked angry. Why in the world was he angry?

Clenching his jaw, he shook his head. "That's not what I mean and you know it. You didn't tell me you were planning to leave so soon."

"I figured sooner better than later, and the weather cleared up-"

He stopped pacing and looked at me with a thunderous expression. "So what? You don't need us anymore, so you're just going to up and leave without telling me."

I glared at him. "You knew we were going to leave as soon as the weather was good enough. And I don't need your permission to do anything."

He ran his hand through his hair, further ruining the disheveled locks. "Of course you don't. Just like you don't need our help! You can do everything on your own!"

I shoved the covers away. The room tilted, but I stood up. Being in the presence of an angry man made my survival instincts kick in. I touched the back of my pants. My knife was still there. Nathaniel kept going.

"Have you ever thought that staying here could be better for Mark? Not moving around going to God knows where?! He really likes it here, why can't you just stay? Aren't you being selfish? He could have a great life-"

"Don't." I stiffened, fixing him with an icy look. "Don't you dare talk to me about what's best for Mark! You know jack shit about our lives!"

"Because you won't tell us!" He threw his hands up, coming closer. "We couldn't even take you to the hospital, for goodness sake! Why? because it's dangerous and I have no idea what this danger could be."

"I don't have to tell you anything," I said, walking to the door. I was done with his crap. I felt like my back was against an invisible wall and it made me furious and scared.

But as I reached for the door, a hand stopped my arm. Instinct took over. Turning around, I twisted out of his grip and grabbed his wrist, bending it in an unnatural angle. My knife was inches from his throat in a second.

Nathaniel didn't look surprised or pained. Even with his wrist locked in that painful position. He could get out of it if he wanted to, not completely unscathed, but he was strong enough to free himself of my grip. He didn't try, though. He just stared into my eyes with his irritatingly knowing gaze.

"Don't fûcking touch me," I hissed, dropping his hand. I tucked the knife back in its place and stomped past him towards the walk-in closet. I was done. If I had known I needed a damn ID to travel around I would've just hitchhiked again instead of waiting around. I didn't want to do it at first because I was afraid that staying on the roads in the cold winter would be hard on Mark.

Screw it... I was getting out of this damn state if it was the last thing I did. I would not let them win. We would make it out on our own and make a life for ourselves outside that cursed place.

"What are you doing?" Nathaniel asked, his voice hitched with a hint of panic. He stood at the door of the closet, watching me throw our clothes into a duffle bag I had borrowed from Claire.

"I'm leaving," I said.

Mark chose that moment to walk in. Perfect. Just perfect. "Daphie?"

"I'm here," I called, zipping the bag closed as Nathaniel stared with wide eyes, his hands limp by his sides.

"Daphne. Calm down, okay?" Nathaniel said as he walked into the closet with Mark close behind. "Let's talk. You can't go anywhere like this."

"You can't tell me what I can and can't do, Nathaniel. You're not my keeper." I heaved the bag over my shoulder.

"Daphie? Where are you going?" Mark asked, rushing to me.

"We're leaving, Mark." I held his coat open for him. "Come on, buddy."

He froze. "Leaving? Where?"

Sighing, I set the duffle bag down and crouched in front of Mark. "We're leaving this house-"

"No!" he yelled, taking a step back when I reached out for him. "No! We're not leaving. No, no, no no no no."

Please, not now...

"Mark." I let the coat flutter to the ground. Mark covered his ears and closed his eyes tightly, muttering 'no' over and over. Someone squeezed my lungs until breathing hurt. I couldn't handle this right now. "Mark, Mark sweetheart calm down-"

"No!" he screamed, running out of the closet. I rushed after him. He banged his head with his hands again.

"Mark! Mark, please sweetie." I tried to keep him from hurting himself. He caught me off guard when his hands left his head and started hitting me instead.

"Mark!" Nathaniel said, coming over.

"No!" I said, fending Mark's hits. "Stay back!"

Nathaniel fortunately stayed put. My chest and arms got the worst of it before I was able to pull away and restrain his hands when he wanted to hit himself again.

"Shh." I hugged Mark and lowered us both to the ground. "It's just you and me, buddy... Shh."

He cried out some gibberish, but his struggling stopped. His tears only got worse, however. Wetness seeped through my thick sweater. He sobbed his eyes out. His heart-wrenching cries made me hate myself even more.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, please calm down," I said, fighting back my own tears. God, I was tired. I was so tired. "Please, Mark."

"I don't... want... to... go," he said between sobs, his little hand holding onto the back of my sweater for dear life. "Please, Daphie, don't make us go... Please, I'll be good. I promise...please. I'll be good."

I heard the door open at some point but I just hugged Mark, buried my face in his hair and rocked him from side to side, wishing someone would do the same to me.

"Please, I promise. I won't tell anyone about the House. Please, please can we stay here? They can't find us here. Please? I don't want to leave and go out again, I'm scared. Please."

Looking up at the ceiling, I blinked back the tears and rubbed Mark's back. His cries slowly quieted down until they were mere hiccups.

"We're not leaving, right?" he asked, pulling away to look at me with teary blue eyes. "Right, Daphie? Please?"

When I didn't reply, he looked over his shoulder at Nathaniel and Claire, both standing by the door. I looked away from the sadness softening their faces.

"Can we stay here?" Mark asked them, his voice raspy, his fingers flicking and his eyes never settling on theirs for too long. "Please."

Nathaniel looked at me then at Mark. "If your sister wants to."

Mark looked up at me again with a grin, tear tracks down his cheeks. "He said we can stay, Daphie. We can stay. Right, Daphie? Can we please stay"

"Mark..." I sighed, already losing the battle against his eyes. He pulled himself to whisper in my ear. "I like it here. They don't tell us to do those things like in the House. And you don't have to do those things here. We're safe here." He leaned back and sniffed. "Can we stay? We can stay, right?"

Swallowing the knot in my throat, I glanced up at Claire who nodded at me with an encouraging smile, then at Nathaniel whose eyes were as hopeful as Mark's.

The last chip of my resolution crumbled.

Maybe we could be safe here? It was a big city, and we would no longer live on the streets where we were vulnerable.

Maybe it was time to stop trying to do everything on my own? To stop trying to prove that I was in charge of our lives after so long of not being able to? Maybe accepting help wasn't admitting defeat.

Mark's eyes reflected all the hopes of a nine year old who'd lived a sham of a life. Was I certain that I could provide him with a better opportunity if we left and abandoned Claire and Nathaniel's offer to help?

No, No I wasn't, and admitting that to myself hurt.

"Okay," I whispered. "Okay."

Mark grinned widely. He wrapped his arms around me in a hug, surprising me. "Okay, we'll stay. Can I go back to the library?"

"Yes, Mark. You can go back to the library," I said, defeated, and let go of him. He ran out, looking more excited than I'd ever seen him. I wished I had half his resilience.

Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll go get something warm to drink," he mumbled, hesitating by the door before he left. He looked like a lost puppy. I pulled my knees up to my chest and put my face in my hands. Claire's shuffled closer. She sat down beside me on the ground.

She patted my back for a few seconds. It took every scrap of will I had not to break down and cry.

"He's probably beating himself up right now," Claire mumbled. I peeked at her with a confused frown.

She nodded at the door. "Nathaniel. I heard you guys arguing... I'm sure he's already regretting how that talk went down."

"It's as much my fault as it's his." I shrugged, running my hands through my hair.

"He follows his heart a lot, as odd as that is for a man, so much so that he'd fight tooth and nail for what he feels strongly about."

"I don't know how he lives like that," I murmured. "Just following his heart..."

"Maybe you need some of it in your life," Claire said, her smile warm. "Sometimes you need to follow your heart and not think too much."

I smiled to myself, because if I had let feelings run my life when I was there, I wouldn't have gotten out alive. I'd probably be long gone.

But you're not in that place anymore... Are you, Daphne? I have left the House, but has the House left me?

"Do you want to talk now?" Claire asked and I shrugged.

What was there to talk about? If they knew the kind of life I had been leading, they would probably reconsider their decision to let me stay in their home. I felt guilty for hiding it.

I didn't have to deal with the guilt before because I thought I was going to leave after a few days, but now...

"I don't know what to say..."

"Okay." Claire stood up and gave me her hand. "How about we go see where those warm drinks are?"

I let her pull me up and we went out. Cecile was still on the couch, coloring in blissful ignorance.

I always read in stories how the characters would wish to go back in time to their childhood. I never did. My childhood wasn't something I would ever choose to relive.

Looking at Cecile as she played innocently, I wished some day Mark could look back at a point of his childhood and wish he could go back; not because his future would be bad, but because his childhood would have at least one magical moment he'd look back fondly on.

I took a seat at the dining table with Claire across from me, never glancing up at Nathaniel who was moving in the kitchen.

A few minutes later, a steaming cup of coffee was set in front of me. Nathaniel dragged the chair next to his sister back and sat down.

Silence.

For several long minutes. The three of us didn't utter a word.

I took a sip of my coffee and wrapped my hands around the cup, looking at the brown liquid inside. My mind already predicted the logical path of the conversation, and it was going to be absolutely catastrophic.

"So... now that you guys are staying," Claire began, breaking the heavy silence, "how about you reconsider that job I offered you before? I think it would be a good way to start."

Here we go... It was time to start dropping bombs.