HER CARE

Chapter Thirteen: The Concierge, Aria's Narrative

We start our day with a visit to the breathtaking York Minster, a Medieval cathedral that's like something out of a fairy tale. The moment we step inside, I'm blown away by the intricate details of its architecture - form the delicate wood carvings, to the masonry - it's all so mesmerizing.

As we explore the cathedral, I can't help but feel a sense of peace wash over me. Surrounded by centuries of history and beauty, it's a moment of solace in the midst of my hectic life. The tour guides share fascinating stories about the cathedral, how it's one of the largest in Northern Europe and holds a special place in the hearts of the people of York.

But it's not just the history that captivates us; it's the atmosphere. The warm acoustics, the gentle hum of the organs - it's like music to our ears. And when the tour guide mentions the church bells ringing out across the town on certain nights, it's as if we can almost hear them, echoing through the streets.

In that moment, standing in the heart of the cathedral, I feel a sense of connection - to the past, to the present, and to the people around me. It's a reminder of the beauty and wonder that exists in the world, if only we take the time to notice it.

Our day ends around 2 pm with late lunch at the hotel.

"So, what's the plan for the rest of the day?" Caleb rushes to catch up with me as we're given the green light to roam the city until 8 pm, but under strict hotel curfew.

"I guess more sightseeing," I say, conveniently ignoring the real mission I have at hand.

"Great, I'll tag along," Caleb insists.

"Hmm, not so fast," I hesitate.

"Come on, who else are you going to tour this big city with? It's pretty clear nobody else wants to hang around us," he points out, with an annoyingly valid argument.

"Fine," I relent.

"Look, I know we got off to a rocky start, but maybe we could start over. We could use each other's company," Caleb suggests, flashing his charming smile.

"Okay," I agree, warming up to the idea. "But, just so you know, I wasn't really planning on sightseeing."

"Rob a bank, then?" he jokes.

"Definitely not," I chuckle. "Actually, the janitor lady gave me an address that she said Mother used to mail to all the time. Visiting might give us some insight into her past, since apparently, it's her hometown."

"Can we please not call her 'Mother'... Please," Caleb's tone turns bitter.

"You know, I've always wondered why you hate her so much," I probe.

"Not right now, Aria," he snaps, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Okay," I sigh, backing off.

"So, what's the address?" Caleb asks calmly, but his demeanor sends a shiver down my spine.

"She wrote it on a piece of paper, but I stupidly left it in the back pocket of my jeans. All I remember is it said 'Rosslyn Avenue,'" I admit.

"Damn it! 202, Rosslyn Avenue, Ackworth Moor Top - that's what that meant," Caleb mutters, as if piecing together a puzzle.

"What meant what?" I press for answers.

"I've heard Grace mention that address to Lisa more than once," he reveals.

"Well, I guess it's really important to her," I deduce.

"We need to get there before the sun goes down," Caleb declares, and just like that, we embark on a journey that could flip this whole story upside down.