*Lena*

“I didn’t mean to,” I whispered. Dad had his back turned to me as he gazed out the window. His hand was on the windowsill, his eyes on the garden below. “What did I do to her?”

“Try to get some rest–”

“Is she okay?” I asked in a choked whisper.

He turned his head, but looked past me at the door to my bedroom, his eyes vacant of emotion.

I followed his gaze, noticing the ivy snaking up the walls of my ...