Saving Elliot ©2015 Sydney Wray

Chapter 8~Masks and Memories

"What's this?" She asked, picking up one of my father's spreadsheets and squinting at it's confusing graph.

"It's my father's." I said, leaning against the kitchen cabinet. "His room is filled with them."

Our Cooks and Maids scurried around us, eyeing Hailey and I like it was their happiest moment.

When the last one left the room, Hailey pointed at the door they went through. "I want one of them."

I laughed. "I'll give you one for your birthday."

"You better." She replied, glancing around the large kitchen.

"Do you want to explore the rest of the house?" I offered. Whenever she came over, she was always looking at everything like she was in a museum. It only seemed proper to offer.

Hailey nodded, and I held out a musing arm toward the staircase.

She went in front of me up the staircase. Once at the top, she wandered to the left towards my Father's room.

"Who's room is this?" She asked, mouth opened in awe as her eyes swept over the kingsize bed and attached living room.

"His room." I said emotionless. I haven't seen him much lately, which leads me to wonder if he's gone out of the country.

Hailey looked at me, frowning in sympathy. "Sorry." She was saying it as if referring to something else, not the fact that it was his room.

I understood, and shrugged. I'd gotten used to him not caring at the age of ten.

Hailey walked around me, and straight down the hallway in a day dream waltz.

"Who's room is this?" She asked, picking up a frame of my mother on the dresser.

"Mine." I grunted. Grunted. When did I ever grunt?

Hailey glanced at me for half a second, and her eyes skimmed over the bed, surrounding dressers, small living room, walk in closet, and bathroom. "Nice."

"It's okay." I said. "What's your room like?"

I watched her sit down on the couch, closing her eyes for half a second in contempt, than reopening them after she realized I asked her a question. "Oh, you know. A bed. A lamp. All the normal stuff."

"When can I meet your parents?" I asked, going to sit next to her.

Her mouth parted. "Sometime."

Oh, no. Had I gone too far asking to meet her parents? Had I been too.. pushy?

"What's this?' She suddenly asked, her thick, long hair falling as a curtain as she reached forward toward the coffee table.

I froze, watching her pick up the silver charm bracelet and placing it in her palm.

"It's beautiful." Hailey breathed, her blue eyes shining in adoration.

I quickly took it gently from her hand, and placed it back on the coffee table.

Hailey frowned at me, shrinking and placing her hands in her lap.

"Sorry." She murmured.

I didn't say anything for awhile, than finally pursed my lips and said, "It's fine."

"Who's is it?"

I remained quite, and kept my eyes trained on the bracelet. "My mom's."

I haven't said 'mom,' in so long, my mind started to race.

"Why do you have it?"

This was the hardest question. I looked at her, her face crinkled in compassion.