Chapter 5: Allegra

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"Good morning!" Mercy yelled, her face alight with pure joy as she burst into the Chans' household. "Hello house! Hello plant! Hello George!"

The butler smiled as he watched Mercy run her hand against the smooth walls, jumping on all the chairs and flapping her arms. I copied George's smile as I admired my sisters carefree attitude. I could never be like that. I have too much real life experience I walked up next to George, Mercy disappearing around the corner.

"How is Mercy doing?" George asked, the smile lingering on his lips as he turned to face me.

"She's is just as cheery as always. Perhaps even more so, now that Mr. Chans is helping her."

George smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. I turned to go sit down in the living room, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. "I have a tour of the house planned for today." the side of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. I smiled and followed him up the huge staircase.

"On the right you have the picture of the Chans Lady, and you will see that this was when Mrs. Chans was still with us."

"She's not with us anymore?" I asked, confused. George looked back at me, his face saying, how do you not understand that phrase?, which reminded me uncannily of a teenager. I fell silent, observing the beautiful picture of Milo's mom. Cascades of chocolate brown hair fell down past her shoulders, her dark brown eyes glowing with a light that couldn't be faked. Her eyes crinkled when she smiled, her mouth open in a hearty laugh, eyebrows arched perfectly to match her expression. She wore a billowing dark red dress and a scarlet scarf that blew in the gentle wind, and red hooped earrings that weren't too big or too small.

I smiled slightly as I gazed at the picture that perfectly captivated the feeling of pure joy. I stayed for a while longer before following George onto the next item.

"This ceramic pot was found in an ancient buried city that we believe belonged to the Mayans." he watched as I examined the pot. "Personally, I don't find kitchen appliances that interesting, but to each his own." we moved on.

We passed room after room, and I counted somewhere around 34 chairs, 61 paintings, and 22 desks including the full set of more ceramic pots, also possibly from the Mayan city. On the second floor, George led me to a room with large double doors reaching the ceiling. I stared up, trying to judge the distance.

"This is the library,"

My face lit up, and George smiled. He pushed an arm to the door and let me enter. The library was huge, rows of shelves lining the perimeter and filling the inside like a coloring book. Thousands of books sat, just waiting to be read. A couple of tables were placed strategically around the room, and on one of them sat Milo. He stood up, accidentally knocking his chair over in the process.

He picked it back up, setting it next to the table and started to walk over to where we were. His face remained impassive as always, his hands in his pockets, but this time, he was wearing a scarlet scarf. The same color as the one in the picture. His eyes studied me as I stood there, and I unconsciously put my hand on my arm, uncomfortable. He shook his hand through his hair again, and I had to stop myself from staring. I heard the door click behind me, and I knew that George had left.

"What are you doing here?" Milo asked, not in a mean way, but just a bit bland. I shrugged and looked around at all the books again.

"He was giving me a tour of the house. I didn't realize that you were here, but if you want I can leave --"

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