Eleanor

I burst through the large mansion doors, my heels clicking loudly against the polished marble floor. My brunette hair was a mess, the makeup on my face caked, mascara smudged, and I had on the tiniest black tube dress.

“Father!” I called out as I walked into the wide living area. “Where are you, Father?” I yelled in frustration. My lips were set in a deep frown. My small, lithe frame shook with the force of my anger.

I bumped into Lara, the housekeeper.

“Oh, Eleanor, you’re home already. I baked your favourite lemon cake and—”

“Where’s Father?”

Lara was a sweet woman, but now just wasn’t the time....