Estela sat alone in her house. Or was it still her house? She hadn't been here in four years. Could she still call it her house? She didn't even have a key. She'd had to break in. Her family's house, then.
Can I still call them my family?
She'd already explored every inch, every surface of the home she'd once been so familiar with. It had a lived-in sort of feel that gave the impression of someone who lived alone and didn't have company very often, but still took care of the place. Though things all looked the same as she remembered on first glance, it was clear that this was no longer the home of a happy husband, wife, and son.
After a full day went by, Estela began to worry. She'd felt oddly blank as she mentally prepared for this reunion. Her only thought for the past several days since escaping had been find Elias and Henri. She hadn't let herself think about what would come next. If she thought too hard about it, she'd never be able to face them. But where were they? She sat on the couch, hands folded in her lap, head bowed. Waiting. She spent the night on the couch. Sleeping in their--his--the bedroom felt too weird.
When the next morning came, and still no one, Estela felt herself start to panic. What if her parents had found a way to carry out their threat? No...that's impossible, they're dead...they can't hurt me anymore. They're dead. She knew. She had killed them.
By the afternoon Estela was thinking she should go look for them at the Nadar estate. They had to be there, right? Right? But before she could get ready to leave, she heard the doorknob turn. She whipped her head towards the door and stood up, heart pounding. She wanted to say something but nothing came out.
Henri.