"Do you think we should wake her?" Mother whispered, her voice washing over me.

"No, I think we should let her sleep for a while longer. It's been a long day," Father said.

"It just goes to show how much Matilda takes after your mother."

"Hm. Neither of them seems to have much of a moral compass or one at all. I'll be glad when we never have to see either of them again."

"We thought we would never see them again twenty-four years ago, and here we are."

"That's true. I wanted to protect Izzy, to make sure she never had to experience the same thing you did, yet here we are. It feels like it will never end."

"She's safe and she's talking to us, that's all that matters."

"I suppose." I felt Father's finger move a small strand of hair off my forehead. "Right, I need to find those crutches."

"I'll give you a hand."

Their footsteps echoed from the room and I listened to them climb the stairs. Once I heard the floorboards above my head creak, signalling they were upstairs, I opened my eyes and stretched my arms behind me. I stifled a yawn and blinked my eyes to adjust them to the fading light that streamed in through the window.

Everyone else had gone, leaving me alone in the parlour with nothing but a ticking clock and the creaks of the floorboards upstairs to break the silence. I knew I hadn't slept for long, at least according to the clock on the mantel, but I felt a little more clear-headed than I had in days. Although I still had a goal of at least trying to stop Grandmother from getting her hands on the house, I didn't have that anger lurking below the surface. It had finally gone and I could think clearly.

I hadn't told Mother and Father everything. They didn't know about the tightening sensation in my chest that made it feel like I couldn't breathe. I didn't tell them about the pond. How could I tell them what went through my head that day? How could I admit that I had wanted to jump into that pond because I thought no one would care about me. I couldn't, especially not in front of the rest of the family and the younger ones.

They could never know.

Upstairs, I could still hear the occasional creak of the floorboards until I heard the footsteps get closer to the top of the stairs. I stretched out again, listening to the footsteps as they came down the stairs with the occasional clunking sound of something hitting the bannister and the wall. Even if I had still been asleep, the noise would have woken me up very quickly. Silence had never been one of Father's strong suits.

He looked at me when he walked in, holding up two wooden crutches that looked like they might snap if I lean on them too hard. Still, if it meant I could attend the debate, then I would take the risk. That and I had never used crutches before.

"These should do. They're not damaged and will get you from Point A to Point B without any incidents. Hopefully," Father said.

"I don't like the sound of that hopefully," I said, stifling a yawn.

"You'll be fine and they shouldn't take too long to get used to. You'll be like lightning on these soon enough."

"If you say so."

"Do you want to try them?"

"Sure, why not? If it means I can go to the debate, I'll do anything."

I slid my right leg off the futon, but I didn't let it hit the floor. Mother walked over to me and grabbed me by the forearms to help me into a standing position whilst making sure I didn't fall over and cause myself another injury. Once standing, Father walked over to me with the crutches and placed one under each of my arms.

The material that covered the top of the crutch felt soft against my underarms and I took hold of the bar a little further down the crutch, wrapping my fingers around it. When I thought I had a decent grip on the crutch, I slowly moved them forward and then swung my left leg after them. With my right leg off the floor, I still felt a little unsteady on my feet but the crutches helped to stabilise me a little more.

After one step, I took another, followed by another one until I could comfortably do a lap around the parlour without feeling like I would topple over and cause myself another injury. I found the entire experience to be quite fun, although the part of the crutch that I had to hold onto did dig into my hands a little. Still, I would be able to go to the debate.

"There you go! I told you you'd be fine," Father said.

"You'll be faster on those than you will be walking, that's for sure and certain," Mother said. She smiled at me. I didn't understand how someone could be impressed at their daughter being able to use crutches, especially given how I ended up on them.

"How do you think you'll do on the stairs?"

"No idea. My balance isn't great on the best of days, this is going to make things a little bit harder," I said.

"Well, let's see how you do. You have a long day tomorrow and you're clearly exhausted so you can go to bed early," Father said."

"I guess so."

"Come on, let's see how you do."

I hopped out of the room and down a short part of the hallway to the bottom step. Mother and Father followed close behind to make sure I didn't fall with Father carrying my satchel and the boot he had taken off. The first step looked intimidating to have to climb and I knew the others were going to be just as difficult. I also didn't like the idea of coming down them on crutches since that was how I hurt myself in the first place. Maybe I could slide down them instead, that would be easier.

Slowly, I put the two crutches onto the first step and used all my upper body strength, of which there was very little, to haul myself up onto the step. I wobbled a little once my foot hit the stair, but I hadn't fallen which I would count as a success. From there, I started to make my way up the rest of the stairs but being extra careful on the placement of the crutches to make sure I didn't fall over.

With Mother and Father following behind, a little dangerous considering I could have sent them flying down the stairs had I missed a step and fallen, I reached the upstairs landing and let out a little cheer of triumph. Of course, I could still fall at any point over the next few days, but I pushed that thought to the very back of my mind and instead focused on making it down the hallway to my bedroom.

"There you go, you'll be fine," Father said as he pushed open my bedroom door for me. "You'll have to be on the crutches for at least two weeks. I don't know what sort of damage my sister has done so I don't want you coming off them too early and doing yourself more damage."

"Understood. I don't think I trust my own ankle at this point."

"Have you done any packing, Izzy?" Mother asked, looking around my room which was still littered with all my things.

I shook my head. "I was going to do it yesterday evening, but then I hurt my ankle and couldn't."

She sighed. "No matter, I'll do it whilst you're at school tomorrow. You can do a final sweep through to make sure I didn't forget anything when you get back."

"What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

"It'll be early evening. We still have some things to pack up and I don't think your grandmother plans on being here until Friday anyway," Father said.

"Right."

"Do you need any help getting into your nightdress or will you be alright on your own?"

"I'll be fine."

"Alright. We'll be in to check on you in a little while." Mother smiled.

I nodded.

Father put my school satchel on the writing desk and dropped my boot onto the floor beside the bed. I stood in the centre of the room and watched them walk out, Father switched the light on as he went and then closed the door. Once alone, I hopped over to the bed and perched onto the edge of it, swinging the crutches up onto the bed so I could grab them quickly when I needed them.

I pulled my other boot off and threw it onto the floor beside the other one, swiftly following it up with the other stocking. From under my pillow, I retrieved my nightdress and worked to remove my school dress without standing up. That ended up being rather hard to do and I had to wiggle it up my body and over my head in order to get out of it. I then changed into my nightdress and removed my ribbon from my hair.

Taking the crutches from beside me, I hauled myself up onto them and then hopped across the room to the small dress where I dropped the ribbon and picked up my hairbrush. I leaned against the dresser and ran the brush through my tangled curls, knowing I was making them worse rather than better. When I gave up trying to brush them, I crossed back to my bed and placed the crutches up against my nightstand as I shuffled between the blankets.

The electric lights on the walls hummed a little and I listened to the sound, trying to figure out how I could stop us from moving out by Thursday evening. At least it gave me a little more time to work out a plan, but it wasn't much. If we had to hand over the keys to Grandmother, I needed to have the plan secure by that moment and I knew that would be easier said than done. I hoped Evelyn would be able to help me.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Are you decent?" Mother asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good." She poked her head around the door and walked in with a glass of water in hand. "Here."

"I wondered where they were coming from."

"You always used to wake up thirsty so I thought you might need them." Mother smiled and placed the glass on my nightstand before sitting on the edge of my bed. "I'm proud of you, Izzy."

"What for?"

"For telling us the truth. I know these past few weeks have been a little unusual given everything that has been going on, but it took bravery for you to tell us just what had been going on and why you felt the way that you did. I hope that this is the first step in you learning to trust us a little more."

I nodded. "I do trust you, I was just confused."

"I understand. When my friend Isabel died, your namesake, I too struggled at first. In fact, I destroyed your grandfather's office because I was so angry at the world for what happened. More than that, I had been angry at myself for not being there to protect her when she needed me. Anger is a common feeling when you lose someone you care about. I had my friends, and your father for that matter, and you have us. We'll always be here if you feel like you need to talk.

"If you don't think you can talk to us, you have such a large family that they will be willing to hear you out no matter what you have to say. You're not alone in how you feel Izzy, and you should never feel like you are. No matter what you are feeling, there will always be someone there to talk to"

I looked at her and smiled before quickly blinking away the tears that started to make a reappearance. I almost told her. The words were on the tip of my tongue. The pond, those thoughts, the sensation of not being able to breathe. It was all right there, just waiting to be said, but the words still didn't come. They became stuck in my throat, jammed in place so that I couldn't speak them no matter how hard I tried.

"I'll leave you to sleep," Mother said.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my darling."

Mother placed a light kiss on my forehead before she stood up from my bed and crossed the room. She switched the light off and then closed the door softly behind her. I laid in the bed and stared up at the canopy around me, wondering why I couldn't find the words to tell her, why they had become stuck in my throat the way they had.

Did she really need to know?

I rolled onto my side, closing my eyes and allowing the ideas about how we were to stay in the house to come flooding to the front of my mind.

We had to stay. We just had to.

~~~

A/N - We're back! Chapter Twenty-Eight is here and we are approaching the end of this story! Still have no idea on whether I'll do another, but we'll see!

Questions! Do you think Izzy should tell her parents about the panic attacks? Will she?

Comment below!

First Published - November 9th, 2021