James woke in the middle of the night desperate for a wee. He'd been home all but five days and already he was missing the en-suite bathroom he had in his Head Boy dorm room. Yawning, James climbed down the attic stairs to the second floor and made for the bathroom. It was on his return trip that he noticed the voices coming from downstairs. Now awake, and very alert, James tip-toed towards the railing and paused, peering over the edge.
While the sound of people was obvious, he could barely make out who was speaking and what was being said. Curious to a fault, James returned to his room, fetched his invisibility cloak from the bottom of his trunk, and made for the first floor of the house. Getting down the stairs was easy. Getting to the archway of the sitting room, without creaking loose floorboards in an old house, was rather difficult. Too much sound and James' parents would know right away he was using his cloak to lurk about.
Luckily, he got to the archway without any noticeable suspicion from the people sitting inside the room. James was startled to see so many familiar faces gathered in his home in the middle of the night. Alastor Moody (his parent's own boss) and Professor Dumbledore were there. James' parents were sitting together on the sofa, holding hands. In the green armchairs, facing one another, sat Henry Fawley and Kingsley Shacklebolt - a co-worker of his parent's from the Auror Department. James felt like he was dreaming. Dorcas Meadowes was leaning against the mantle, looking frustrated, beside her stood Maureen and Alfred McKinnon.
"I'm sorry to be the bearer of ill tidings," Alastor Moody grumbled, not sounding at all remorseful, "but things are getting worse, not better. Voldemort is gaining followers by the dozen. Not only that, we've had legitimate sources come forth to warn us that he has begun recruiting students." James could name a few suspects off the top of his head. Avery. Cordelia. Snivellus. He grew hot with rage just thinking about them all, the pathetic lot.
"What are you suggesting, Alastor?" It was from Alfred that the question came. It shocked James, considering he was usually rather quiet and differential. "Are you planning to recruit our kids to join the resistance?"
"I didn't say that," Alastor snapped. "Though, you've clearly come to your own conclusion on the matter and see that the time will come-"
"Child soldiers are not the answer."
"They're hardly children anymore though, are they?"
Things were growing heated. James felt inclined to jump in and share his own opinion on the matter - considering it was him and his friends they were referring to. Dumbledore stepped forward, his face long and sympathetic. He looked at Alfred and smiled kindly.
"The idea is frightening, I agree," he nodded, voice calm and placid. "The truth is, Alastor is right. Voldemort grows stronger every day and we don't have the numbers or the support quite frankly..."
"No," came James' mother's voice, strong and assertive. "End of discussion." She had her arms crossed against her chest and a look upon her face James recognized - it was the look that told him when it back down in an argument. He could see from his father's face he was thinking the same thing.
"Caroline," James' head turned towards Dorcas, who'd called his mother's attention to her. He didn't know Dorcas well himself, having only run into her a few times at functions he was dragged to by his parents or, on the rare occasion he visited them at their office. She was one of the younger Aurors, only a few years in the program. She was of average height and build, with long dark hair, which James had only ever seen in a low ponytail. Her features were all dark, eyes, skin, brows. She was both stunning and, upon first glance, a force to be reckoned with.
"I think you should hear him out," James heard her say to his mother. "I don't believe any of us want to see these kids put in harm's way."
"Agreed," came the voices from the younger crowd - two young Aurors James didn't recognize along with Henry and Kingsley.
"Previously we've allowed them to shadow us on missions-"
"One mission," Caroline corrected Kingsley in a stern tone. "That was special circumstances, it was their friends who were being held captive."
"We aren't proposing that they be signed up for The Order now," Dumbledore interjected, putting an end to the argument. "We thought we would allow the chosen students to finish out their final year at Hogwarts before being asked to join The Order." The Order? James wondered to himself.
"How will you select your lucky students?" Alfred asked, still sounding skeptical.
"We did not come up with this idea overnight of course," Dumbledore supplied, "we've been watching all those in their sixth or seventh year who show an inclination towards the cause."
"You'll wait until they've finished with their education?" Maureen clarified blue eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "and they will not hear a word about it from us until that time."
The room went silent for a moment, Maureen and Alfred shared a long look, one filled with twenty years worth of understanding James could not begin to comprehend. Then, Maureen looked to Dumbledore and nodded.
"I'll agree to it," she said, "if you ask Marlene she can decide whether or not she'd like to join."
"No one will be forced to sign against the will," Dumbledore agreed wholeheartedly.
All eyes then landed on Caroline and Alec, neither looking at the other, both pale. James didn't think his parents had ever appeared so old to him, so frail.
"You'll dress it up in duty and honour and all they'll be signing away their future."
"Don't be so morbid Care…" Maureen sighed.
"We can't avoid the fact that a war is coming. Whether we like it or not an army is required, a team of young, enthusiastic soldiers. If your son happens to choose to make the decision to defend what we all in this room believe to be right, who are you to stop him?" It was Dorcas who asked the question, the only one in the room who seemed willing to challenge Caroline Potter. "Only he can make that decision and we must believe that with a strong resistance we can beat back Voldemort and his Death Eaters before a war is truly on our doorstep."
"James is seventeen now darling," his father said, "he's allowed to make his own decisions. I think if he wants to join once he's completed his education, he should be given that opportunity." His father said it all with a straight face, his glance not quite meeting that of James' mother's. Caroline's eyes welled with tears but she took a deep breath a nodded her head.
"Yes," she agreed, "I haven't got much of a choice anyway." It wasn't long after that she suggested it was time she got to bed and the rest of the group vanish. James, still reeling from what he'd witnessed, made quick business getting out of the war before anyone accidentally "bumped" into thin air.
Marlene woke in a cold sweat, haunted by a nightmare. It had ended with her screaming in terror as she was trapped, once more, inside the broom closet that the Death Eaters had kept her in. She was sitting up in bed, catching her breath, when she heard frantic footsteps and expected her mother to come barging in the room.
"I heard you scream," Danny was out of breath and white-faced with panic.
"I'm okay," she promised him. "I just…" Marlene clenched her eyes shut, trying to push the image from her mind - that tiny, damp, closet; trapped with the stench of her own urine. Not until Danny retrieved the tissue box sitting on her desk did Marlene realize she was crying.
"What you went through…" Danny's voice cracked. "Mar, I thought I would never see you again…"
"Oh, Danny…"
She threw her arms around him and suddenly both of them were crying. It was only then that Marlene could see it, the impact her trauma had had on those closest to her. Danny was scared and he would carry that with him, that blip in the timeline, for the rest of his life. How could things ever be the way they were before? How could she ever be the same?
"Don't worry about me," Marlene assured Danny as they pulled apart, playing the role of big sister. She reached for a tissue and blew her nose. "I'll be okay, I always am."
"That's not true," Danny shook his head. "Just because you might be better at hiding it than the rest of us doesn't mean you're not struggling."
Marlene's jaw clenched. Struggling. She hated that word. She couldn't stand the idea of a single person believing she wasn't as capable as she had been prior to being captured. Regardless, she gave Danny an appreciative nod.
She was appreciative of her brother, of the comfort he provided her in that moment but also every day. Even at school, where they rarely spent time together, Danny made a point of reaching out. If they ran into each other in the corridors he'd always wave, smile or - once or twice - even ran up and gave her a hug. Other siblings would scowl at one another and walk in the other direction but not Marlene's brother.
"Can I ask you a question without getting smacked?" Danny requested sheepishly. Marlene rolled her eyes.
"Out with it then."
"Are you and Black done with, now that you're seeing Henry?"
"First of all, Sirius and I never started anything," Marlene insisted, toting the company line. "Secondly, I'm not seeing Henry. We went on one date, to...catch up."
"Yeah," Danny grinned, "I'm sure you did lots of that." She punched him in the arm, Danny gasping.
"You promised!"
"Never promised anything." In minutes they'd gone from crying together to play fighting. The door flung open and once again, Marlene half expected her mother to come barging in. Instead, it was Amy.
"I thought I heard you two."
She had only just returned from Paris two days before, settling back into her old bedroom which their parents had left untouched. Her hair, straighter than the rest of the family's though no less blonde, was shorter now, cut at her shoulders and, for the time being, tucked behind her small ears.
"Marlene hit me!" Danny complained.
"Did she now?" Amy kept her face blank and came over, sitting down on the bed beside Danny. She waited a moment, hands in her lap, the room silent, and then leaned over and punched him in the other arm. Marlene burst into laughter as Danny cried out with indignation.
"Come on!"
"Big sister rights," Amy shrugged. She pulled her knees into her chest and leaned back against the wall the bed was along.
"What're you two doing in here anyway?"
"I had a nightmare, Danny heard me scream."
"Are you okay?" Amy frowned.
"I'm fine." The word had lost its meaning for Marlene. Now, it was simply a cover for the complicated healing process truly taking place within.
"I got a letter yesterday, by the way," Amy changed the subject, "from Trinity Elderwood, do you remember her?"
"You were friends in school?" Marlene couldn't quite recall Trinity's face.
"Yes, well, turns out her boyfriend Marco is good friends with Henry Fawley." Her sister's lips turned up slightly. "Apparently you two have been seeing each other?"
"Not seeing," Marlene stressed for the second time that night, "we had one date, that's all."
"But you're interested in going on more?" Amy inquired. Marlene struggled to read her sister's interest. Was she irritated? Mad that Marlene hasn't mentioned it all to her sooner?
"We're just taking it slow," she shrugged.
"Uh-huh," Amy smiled, not looking the least bit convinced. "He's just the boy you used to practically drool over every time he entered a room…"
"I did not!"
"You had a crush on him, admit it. I remember those eyes."
"Sure, when I was thirteen, it's been a few years."
"A few," Amy agreed. "Not many though. Only enough to ensure you've grown into your looks. I can't imagine he can resist you."
"Do you support it?" Marlene blurted out the question, regretting it once she asked, terrified of the answer.
"I don't mind if that's what you're asking. I haven't spoken to Henry since I was eighteen but from what I remember, he's a good guy. His heart was always in the right place."
"He is a good person," Marlene found herself suddenly agreeing, "one of the best if you ask me."
"You know he was the one who found her when they had her locked up in that house?" Danny whispered to Amy as if Marlene couldn't hear from inches away.
"That sounds like Henry," Amy nodded approvingly. "Have you invited him over for Christmas?"
"Of course not, we've only had one date."
"Look at you, blushing," Amy teased with a smirk. Danny joined in, both teasing her for her crush. Marlene hid beneath the covers, shouting at them to quit it, entirely shocked that neither her mother nor father came barging in to ask what all the ruckus was about.
Remus had never had a very easy time with sleep but, since returning home from Hogwarts, he'd found it particularly difficult to come by. Five days they'd been home and Remus had spent most of that time confined to his bedroom. Reading, napping, listening to sad music which prolonged his melancholy state.
He was hurting. Remus felt humiliated, an entire population of students whispering about him having an affair, guilty because of the pain he'd caused Alice and terrified of the consequences of admitting his secret to Leila. He'd done it to protect Alice but he feared in retrospect he'd only made things worse. What if instead, Leila told her friends Remus' true secret? What if that was the rumour circling about school when they returned?
It was late morning. Remus still hadn't attempted to so much as roll over in bed. At quarter past ten his mother's timid knock came against the door and he heard it creak open, his back turned.
"Remus? How about a spot of breakfast?" she whispered into the darkroom, light flooding in from the hall.
"I'm not hungry," Remus responded.
"You must be hungry, you barely touched your supper last night. Come on, I've made a whole feast, there has to be something you find the least bit appetizing." She left then, allowing him to get his bearings before leaving his little oasis. Eventually, Remus rose and padded out into the kitchen, where his mother waited, humming quietly to herself as she worked over the stove. Remus sat down at the table.
"Your dad's gone to work," she informed him, "it'll be just the two of us today."
"Mm."
"Perhaps we could do something? Shopping or…"
"No," Remus shook his head. His mother came over with a big plate piled with eggs, sausage, beans, and toast. She was right, Remus couldn't help twitching his nose at the smell of the food as she rested it before him. "I really don't want to go out."
"Is there something that happened?" his mother inquired, lowering into the chair across from him. "Someone you're avoiding perhaps?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
His mother sighed helplessly. Hope Lupin felt useless when it came to dealing with her son. She had been, ever since he'd been afflicted with his condition. She'd been twenty-nine when she fell pregnant, expecting to have a large family with her new husband, those plans were killed rather early on. Now, at forty-seven, she resigned herself to the fact that she would never be exactly what Remus wanted or needed in a mother. She did what she could, and tried her best to support him, but every gesture seemed to fall short.
Remus continued to eat his meal in silence, Hope glad to see him chomping away, and somewhere in the middle of it all spit out the truth.
"You'll remember, perhaps, that there was a girl I was seeing during the summer."
"Yes." Hope made sure to keep her voice steady and unemotional.
"Well, things got rather serious," Remus explained, not looking up at her. "The truth came out."
"The truth?" Remus nodded, his heart in his throat. He didn't know whether his mother would scold him for such a careless choice. She remained still, her face a blank canvas.
"She didn't react well I suspect?"
"No," Remus admitted, putting down his fork. "At least, she ran away and I haven't heard a word from her since."
"Are you worried she'll speak?" Hope struggled to hide her anxiety now, fearful of the judgement she knew quickly followed revealing her son's truth.
"I'm not sure," Remus shrugged. "If she does it'll by my responsibility," he promised her. His mother gave him a tense smile.
"Your worries are mine," she reminded him and for a second Remus almost believed her.
He finished up half his plate, enough to satisfy his mother, and then asked for permission to return to his room. He'd always been a very polite young boy, now a man, though Hope knew many in their world would judge him for a beast. Hope watched as Remus returned back down the hall to his bedroom, shoulders slack, the joy beaten out of him. He was seventeen years old, it seemed unfair to her that life should already be so hard. Yet, it had been that way for Remus since the age of five and - as her husband had told her at the time - it would stay like that forever.
Lily had been unwillingly dragged out wedding dress shopping on her mother's insistence. She'd expected her mother and Petunia to go alone when they'd mentioned their trip into London that morning. For herself, Lily had planned a quiet day; a book in the bath perhaps or a nice, quiet nap. Instead, at half past eleven Petunia had come stomping into her room looking sullen.
"Mum wants you to come," she explained, arms crossed.
"Do you want me to come?"
"I want whatever makes mum happy so get dressed and be downstairs quickly please." That was all she said before walking out of the door, slamming it behind her.
Lily followed orders because she didn't want to start a fight and that was how she ended up in the bright showroom of a London bridal shop on a Thursday afternoon. She and her mother waited on a plush, orange couch while an attendant helped Petunia with dresses in the change room.
Lily had never much liked her sister's style and so struggled to offer the same level of enthusiasm her mother had when Petunia stepped out in yet another high-necked, white, lacey gown.
"Oh Lily, isn't this nice?" her mother asked, oblivious to Lily's pain. Truth be told, she thought all the frilly, lacey gowns were rather generic and ugly looking. She thought the whole store seemed tackey and Petunia looked even tackier in the gowns she was picking out. She couldn't say any of that of course.
"Yes," Lily lied, "she looks great."
"I know it can seem tedious when you're not the one getting married. Just remember that this is going to be one of the biggest days of Petunia's life." Lily winced. "Yours too, it's a great joy, witnessing your big sister get married."
"Might be more joyful if she wasn't marrying that neanderthal," Lily muttered beneath her breath. He mother glared.
"Don't be saying that sort of thing around her."
"Ready?" the beady-eyed attendant asked, stepping out first. She held open the door for Petunia who needed both hands to hold up the skirt of her dress.
Petunia's blonde hair was coiled neatly into a bun at the back of her head so that her neck appeared longer than usual.
"Well?" she inquired, "how does it look?" she was staring at herself in the mirror as Lily and their mother eyed her. The dress was rather plain, high necked with very little detail. The full skirt flowed out from the waist. There was a small train with delicate stitching along the hemline.
"Oh, darling…" came , her green eyes filled with tears already. "You look absolutely stunning."
Lily caught Petunia blushing.
"You don't think it's too plain?" Her sister worried.
"Oh no," Lily jumped in, "it doesn't look plain on you." In fact, it was the only dress that Lily didn't think made Petunia look like a meringue.
"Do you think Vernon will like it?" Petunia asked now, running her hands along the fabric of the dress as she studied herself in the mirror.
"Oh sweetie, no matter what you wear he'll be awe-struck," their mother said with certainty. Petunia gave the skirt a little swoosh, swaying from side to side as the shop attendant said something to her about mobility in the dress.
"Is that it then?" Lily heard the woman ask. "Is this the one?"
Petunia's dark eyes shifted towards their mother who nodded encouragingly.
"I suppose so," she agreed, her voice shrill with excitement. Their mother, who had agreed to pay for Petunia's wedding gown, left with the attendant to handle the purchase. Meanwhile, Petunia was instructed to wait in the gown for the seamstress who would see to any adjustments that needed to be made. Suddenly, the two Evans girls were alone.
"You'll have a plus one you know," Petunia said randomly. "Any thoughts on who you'd bring?"
"I suppose my boyfriend."
"The redhead?" Lily realized suddenly that her sister had not the slightest idea how much had changed in a matter of months.
"Well, no," Lily confessed, slightly embarrassed. "We broke up a while ago, there's someone else I've been seeing, for a few months."
Petunia's thin eyebrows rose halfway up her forehead. "Has mum met him?"
"No."
"You should bring him around," Petunia suggested to Lily's great surprise. "She'll want to meet him. What's his name then?"
"James Potter."
"Mm."
The seamstress was a petite old lady with snow-white hair, short and tightly curled. She began measuring Petunia and adjusting the dress on her as Lily watched on, stomach-turning. Petunia telling her she wanted to meet James was perhaps the nicest thing she'd said to Lily in months…but why?
Lily knew her sister well enough by now to know there was always more beneath the surface. Perhaps it was simply the wedding planning adding a spark of joy to her life, causing her to forget for a moment that she despised Lily.
Not quite sure whether or not she would be sending him into the lion's den, Lily decided in her head that she would ask James himself whether or not he was interested in meeting her family. At least then he had a choice. Part of Lily hoped he would say no.
Once, when her father was around, Lily would have been excited to introduce James to everyone. Her father had maintained equilibrium in the house that had been lost in the year following his death. Now, if James came over, he was likely to see the way Petunia spoke to her and the passive attitude her mother turned towards it. It was embarrassing. Truthfully, Lily hadn't thought much on the idea of introducing James to her family, though he had expressed interest in her meeting his. Did it make her a bad girlfriend? Was it strange, to feel dread rather than excitement when considering the idea?
Alice's time at home had not been joyous, nor anything like past Christmases. She'd spent her days so far cleaning, desperate to get the house into some sort of order. Sometimes Florence Everly came over, other times Alice stayed up late into the night, tidying fervently as she waited for her father to return home from the pub.
On this particular afternoon, Alice decided to take a trip to Diagon Alley in order to fetch some essentials from the shops. She might have simply gone to the muggle grocery store down the road yet, something about contributing to the wizarding businesses she knew and trusted appealed more to Alice. Besides, she wanted to get some distance between herself and her father - who she had been nursing all night as after coming home smashed.
Alice went first to The Market - a large marketplace building filled with different vendors selling anything from strange wizard delicacies to regular fruit and vegetables. Alice was desperate to fill the fridge at home with something more than bread and peanut butter. It was pathetic, really, that two days before Christmas there was not a single decoration up, not one Christmas cookie to be had, no sign of holiday cheer. Alice felt as though she were living in a strange, alternate universe. It looked like her life and yet everything had changed for the worse.
Alice filled her basket with cheese, bread, and two meaty lamb chops she found at a good price. She got the idea to use them for Christmas dinner when she saw them sitting there on display. Afterwards, her mind filled with ideas for her Christmas meal, she made for one of the vegetable stands, hoping to find some brussels sprouts, they were a vegetable which always made her think of Christmas and she wandered towards them, completely oblivious, at first, of the familiar pair approaching from the opposite direction. Alice looked up only when Augusta and Frank were a few feet away, the two of them already having noticed her.
For a moment, Alice panicked. What did Augusta think of her now? The nasty harlot who'd broken her boy's heart? Alice hated herself enough for what she'd done but she was sure Augusta would despise tenfold now. Perhaps she would even be thankful to be rid of Alice...
"Alice Griffith," Augusta enthused happily, stepping forth as Frank hung back. She smiled - a rare sight - and embraced Alice. "Frank told me about the break," she whispered in Alice's ear, "I think he's making a huge mistake."
Those had been the last words Alice had expected out of her mouth. As they drew apart, Alice stared into Augusta's face in awe. She couldn't know how much those words meant to Alice and always would.
"How is everything for you?" Augusta inquired. Frank came over, hands tucked into the pockets of his denim jacket, eyes cast to the ground.
"It's okay. My dad's still struggling of course but…" Alice drifted off, shrugging. She was still in a bit of shock, trying to understand why Frank hadn't informed his mother that their breakup was entirely her fault. Why, especially after their last interaction, wouldn't he want to trash her name to the one person guaranteed to take his side?
"Are you spending Christmas with family this year, dear?"
Augusta's questions were innocent enough but they made Alice's stomach knot. The truth was, she was lucky if she managed to cook her planned Christmas meal and get her father to sit down for it. He'd become a man she barely recognized and she hardly wanted to spend much time around him. It was better when he was sleeping or out of the house. Then at least, she might still pretend…
"Yeah," Alice lied, her voice small and shaky.
"I'm glad I got to see you," she said, "Happy Christmas, tell your father I say hi."
"Of course." Alice did her best to smile as Augusta stepped aside to give her and Frank some space for a moment.
At first, it was only silence, Frank still refusing to look at her, Alice too afraid to start talking in case he was still filled with the fury he'd had in him the last time they'd spoken.
"I didn't tell her," he blurted out, still looking down. "I just didn't want to deal with all of the questions and I felt it would be better, easier, for both of us if she just thought we took a break because of stress."
"Okay," Alice agreed, her voice coming out like a croak. Frank looked up then and noticed, in a way no one else could, how beaten down she was. Alice had dark circles beneath her eyes and a thinning frame, having lost a little over five pounds in the span of a few weeks. Everything about her seemed hollow and dark as if she might snap like a twig at the slightest impact.
Frank simply stared at her, brows furrowed with concern, and Alice did her best not to blush or, worse, break into tears as she felt near doing. Now it was Alice's turn to look down, bowing her head shamefully.
"I should go," she used every ounce of strength she had to steady her voice.
"Alice…"
"Thank you, Frank," she looked up at him, blinking back the tears beginning to collect behind her eyes. "What you did, not telling her, it's more than I deserve." She couldn't say more than that, nor stand to look into his eyes warm brown eyes, eyes she'd once known so well, filled now with ambivalence.
Alice left the market then, teary-eyed and without her brussels sprouts. At home, she found her father missing and the mess from the night before leftover for her to clean up. She ignored it, falling down onto the couch in a puddle of tears, her entire body trembling with each sob. Alice wasn't quite sure how long she'd been lying there when the doorbell rang.
Expecting her father, drunk and barely standing, Alice sheepishly opened the door, peering around it to find none other than Frank. He was rosy-cheeked, slightly winded. He stared at her, not looking quite certain of himself, and then spoke suddenly.
"I'm sorry for what I said to you before we left Hogwarts, you ran into me at the wrong moment-"
"Please Frank," Alice's voice trembled, no hiding the tears with her wet cheeks and bloodshot eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for."
"I'm not saying that I forgive you for what you did but I can't deny that you'll always hold a special place in my heart. I don't like to see you suffering Alice." He was tapping his foot, an anxious habit Alice had come to recognize over the years.
"I don't understand…"
"Let me help, at least so you can get some rest."
"No," Alice shook her head adamantly. "I'm not asking that of you."
"You're not asking, I'm offering," Frank reminded her. "It doesn't change anything I just can't stand the thought of you trying to do this all alone over the holidays." Frank bowed his head before adding, "and I feel guilty for believing that you and Remus were having some kind of affair."
"My dad is out," Alice confessed, stepping aside to allow Frank to cross the threshold. "I'm not quite sure where to…"
Frank looked around silently and, as Alice walked behind him, it dawned on her he must be rather stunned, to see the place in such a state, so lifeless and dark. Watching him, stepping through the living room, covered in the remanents of her father's rough evening, Alice was reminded of a year prior, the same living room lit up with lights, a Christmas tree nuzzled in the corner. While her parents were at work, she had Frank had cuddled on the couch, blankets draped over them, dreaming of a future that was never to be.
"He's not well. He lost his job because of the drinking," Alice explained, filled with shame. "I think he's just in a lot of pain…" her voice cracked, her own pain surfacing, and she turned away, dreading hysterics in front of Frank.
"Let me tidy up," Frank suggested softly, "you go lie down."
"If he comes home-"
"I'll deal with it," Frank assured her. It was difficult for Alice to leave him downstairs and climb up to her bedroom. She was certain that sleep would evade her, as it had for days, but the moment her head hit the pillow she was out like a light. She didn't rise again until the next morning. She found her father, tucked into bed snoring, a bucket beside him and a glass of water on the table. The main floor looked almost as good as it had been prior to Alice's mother's passing.
Frank had left, as Alice had expected, though she found a note in his absence, waiting on the kitchen table.
I made sure your father got to bed safely but didn't want to wake you.
Happy Christmas Alice, I truly hope things start to get easier in the new year...
Frank
P.S. You should tell the girls the truth about how things are going with your Dad, they'd want to know.
