EMBERS : the umbrella academy [2] [COMPLETE]

DAY 410

     QUENTIN AND MARIE WILSON were richer than Carla expected. Far richer. Their house was definitely more of a mansion, with countless rooms of varying size and a massive garden.

     Carla had stayed with them since they took her home, and she didn't think she had felt so happy in a while. The couple didn't ask questions, they just let her live there and enjoy the  lifestyle

     The Wilson's home reminded Carla slightly of the Umbrella Academy, with a grand staircase and fine art lining most walls.

     It was the art that Carla found the most entertaining. Quentin and Marie were very eccentric, and far from what would have been considered 'normal' for 1962.

     Carla understood they had accumulated such a large amount of money from owning a sales business of some sorts, which meant that the historial items they purchased must have been not only very expensive, but also very hard to come by.

     There was a replica of 'The Mona Lisa' that watched over the trio as they ate, and a brick that was apparently the 'third to be laid' when building Rome that was displayed in a glass case in the hall.

     How the couple came to own such things, Carla didn't understand, but she enjoyed the atmosphere it gave the home. The pieces were as unique as the couple that owned them.

     She lived a life of luxury, being waited on by the Wilson's two butlers (Jerry and Martin), and the maid Lucy, sleeping in a Queen-sized bed, and having access to a walk-in wardrobe at all times.

     Perhaps the universe was starting to make things right again.

     There were a lot of high-end parties, and Carla had met the most influential politicians, actors and reporters of the time. They all assumed she was the adopted daughter of the Wilson couple.

     In a way, Carla supposed she was - just not legally. Because technically, as far as the government were concerned, Carla hadn't been born yet.

     The thing about being surrounded by the upper class, meant Carla was absorbed into their lifestyle. The other young adults in the high-end world had access to the most expensive alcohol and purest drugs on the market.

     It didn't do anything to help Carla's habits she had picked up, and instead fuelled them.

     And although her quality of living had improved indefinitely, the nightmares didn't. Every time she tried catching a scrap of sleep, she would wake up with a strangled cry, feeling as though she were teleported back to the time of Day 47.

     Either that, or she would be having anxiety dreams revolving around Klaus or Sarah.

     "Carla," Marie's voice called from downstairs, "Can we have a word?"

     Carla felt her stomach drop, questions instantly crowding her mind. The first conclusion she jumped to was that the Wilsons wanted to get rid of her. The kind, warm, caring, funny couple had grown sick of her.

     She started walking down the grand staircase, heart pounding in her chest as she neared the couple standing at the bottom of the stairs.

     Quentin was holding his cane, per usual, and when Carla reached the bottom of the stairs, his fingers drummed out a small rhythm on the top.

     "Carla-" he began, only for the teen to cut him off.

     "You want to get rid of me, don't you?" Carla blurted, "It's okay, I get it, but please don't send me to a home. I can pack my stuff and then-"