The next few years after our parents died tragically in a fire that I had caused our lives were never the same again. Nor was my relationship with my sister. From the day we became orphans, both Isabella and I changed. Yes, we had changed when our father returned, but we changed drastically after the fire destroyed our home.

For the next 3 years, my sister and I spent most of our days travelling along the great roads. With the little money we had left between us we managed to find accommodation for a few nights, but after that I knew I had to find work. I was only 18 at the time and barely could look after myself, let alone my little sister. Isabella was never the same again after the death of our parents. She remained quiet, sullen and would hardly speak to me. The work I found wasn't great. I spent most of days cleaning out the stables of a local lord while Isabella helped with the housework when she could. At least we earned enough money to live off on and buy new clothes when we needed. One night while I was counting how much money we had, Isabella crawled over to me and laid her head upon my shoulder.

" I want to go home."

"I know. So do I." I sighed. "But, we don't have a home."

"We've got relatives in France. Perhaps they could take us in?"

"France is a long way, Isabella. It's too expensive to travel over there."

Isabella lifted her head off my shoulder and then crawled back to her make shift bed. Sensing she was upset I asked her,

"What is it?'

"Nothing." came her reply as she turned away from me.

"No, what is it?" I said a bit more forceful than intended.

"It's your fault, you know."

"What do you mean it's my fault?"

"It's your fault mama and father are dead."

Her response cut through me and breathing heavily I closed my eyes, my hand with a coin in mid air. I sighed.

"I know." I said softly.

Isabella turned to face me.

"I hate you." she said suddenly then turned back away.

I looked at my sister stunned into silence. I didn't know what to say. My sister had told me she hated me. How was I suppose to respond to that? My sister hated me and she blamed me for our parents' deaths. She was right of course. It was my fault that they were dead. There wasn't a single day where I didn't wish I could turn back the clock and brace the flames to rescue them. I paused what I was doing and crawled over to where Isabella lay. She had her back face to me, but I didn't mind. I lay down behind her wrapping my arm around her waist and brought her against my chest. We lay in that position for a good few minutes before I broke the silence.

"Isabella, I know it is my fault that our parents are dead. It was I who had caused the fire, but like I promised mama and you, my dear sister I won't let anything or anyone come between us. From now on I will always be here for you."

I felt Isabella turn over so she was facing me. She looked at me with those blue eyes of hers and as I gazed at her, I could see that she knew that I meant it. And I did. At least I thought I did.