I went to my room and dropped my bag on the bed. I then left to go drink some water. I passed by the girls' room and the door was slightly open. I looked inside.

Heather was sitting on her bed, drawing flowers in her book. She seemed lonely. I felt sharp guilt in me. It wasn't her fault if I'd lost my dad.

Slowly, I entered the room. She looked up at me. I smiled a little. She seemed surprised. Normal. For months now I hadn't smiled or spoken to her. She smiled back, ...