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𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 —𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥—
𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙍𝙄𝙋 𝙏𝙊 Hawaii was quite complicated, as Bryce took it. Everywhere she turned, there was a new train to catch or a place she, Candice, and Evelyn needed to stop at for some unknown reason. But, as the women stepped onto the perfectly trimmed grass of their new home at Pearl Harbor, the long and excruciating trip was most definitely worth it.
Bryce, like the others, grabbed her luggage from the back of the taxi, and surged forward to check out the house. Their curiousness got the best of them, and they all wanted to explore. Although Bryce was looking forward to unpacking and resting, instead of venturing the neighborhood.
"I told you it would be beautiful," Evelyn says to Bryce as Candice pulls out her master key. "And it's so big, I could only imagine how much it costed."
More than what all of them had earned in their lives, Bryce guessed. But on the inside, she could tell that her estimation was beyond wrong. The size of the house, the things in it— she hadn't imagined staying in such a luxurious space. This was for a good cause, so the brunette wasn't too surprised, though. The government had personally issued for them, so that by itself meant something.
Upon entering, a chandelier hung from the wooden rafters, glittering against the early sunlight that peaked through the windows. The living space was large, with two sofas, a coffee table, and a television spread around. It was obvious the layout of the furniture had been discussed for a while, or was handled by a professional. The sofa matched the burgundy accent wall, and the paintings in the room contrasted with vibrant colors that reminded Bryce of an art show she once visited.
Several of the nurses trailed off on their own, taking the offered adventure of a personal tour. Bryce and Evelyn, however, decided they would do it together, and take it all in slowly. There was so much to think about— especially when only hours ago, the two of them were having a sleepover with Candice and joked about each other's packing skills.
"This kitchen," one of the nurses— Rose, Bryce recalled— sighs in content, walking along with Bryce and Evelyn. "It's bigger than my washroom, closet, and bedroom."
The brunette silently agreed, seeing as the same thing was true with her. This type of large space was uncommon, even with eight women living under the same room— there were nine bedrooms, for crying out loud. It was definitely unexpected, but Bryce wasn't about to complain.
The lighting in the cooking space was spectacular, the fluorescence bouncing of of the white tiles on the floor. Near the center, there was a bar with four aligned stools made out of the finest cedar that Bryce had ever seen. All of the appliances were brand new, and she could smell the hint of an artificial cinnamon wax that was melting in a tarte burner on the counter.
