(Sorry for all the spelling mistakes!)

I'm sorry I didn't come to tell you in person. But I haven't been back at school, and I haven't really wanted to leave the house. Olga didn't tell me until after the wake, or I would have told you then. We're going to go live at their house. Olga plans to put the house on the market then put the funds into a trust for me. I'll write to you again with my address.
I love you.
Helga.

Helga took a deep breath and dropped it into the mailbox at the post office they had stopped at. Arnold was the only other person she had wanted to write to, besides Mr. Simmons. No one else mattered. She figured it was the least she could do considering how he had stayed by her side as much as he could during the days after her parents deaths. Olga had arranged for a double funeral, so there were a lot of people present. Her parents, for all the years they had lived together, had lead pretty separate lives, so they had their own friends, workmates and business associates. They had all piled in, along with some of Helga's classmates. She knew they were just there for the show. Except Arnold. He was genuinely there for her. Though she did see Phoebe shed a couple of tears during a eulogy for her mother. She was there with her parents though, so that may have been the only reason she had shown up. She quietly offered her condolences to Helga and her sister then rushed off to stand with Gerald and his friends.

Arnold got her something to eat, and sat with her for a while, until she got over all these people and took off to her room to grieve more privately. Arnold hung around for a while with her in her room, both telling each other their plans for the future, listening to music, but then his grandfather came and got him. He kissed Helga's cheek before he left and held her in a tight hug. They'd decided that if she made it to France and he to England they could still see each other. They've be close enough to, probably even closer than staying in the same country on opposite sides!

It was that evening that Olga had come to tell her of her plan to sell the house. It had stunned Helga to her core. Her parents were only just buried and her sister was selling the house?

"I'm also going through Mommy and Daddy's things tomorrow and donating stuff. We don't need any of it, but if there's anything you think you might want, I'd suggest you go get it tonight," Olga informed her. Helga sat there, stunned. Olga's whole demenor had changed after the mourners had gone. She had gone from sad and devastated to determined and heartless. The surprises kept coming when the next day a real estate agent had shown up and put up a For Sale sign.

Helga had gone into her parents bedroom the night of the funeral and looked around. She went to her mothers jewellery box and just grabbed everything in it. She found her fathers lucky belt and then a small scrapbook with "Me and Helga" on the cover. Opening it she found stubs from the shows, photo's of her and her dad on a fishing trip, a selfie her and her mother had taken on one of their road trips. Each page had a blurb on what was happening, when and where it had happened. Helga closed the book and held it close to her. She had never known her parents had put together something like this! Tears ran down her cheeks, as she quickly grabbed a bottle of her mothers perfume and her dads aftershave, and a few other mementos.

"What's that book?" Olga asked, pointing to it.

"It's a scrapbook Mom and Dad made from all our trips and outings together," Helga said, looking down at the cover. "I never knew they made it."

"They never made anything like that for me," Olga said in a strange voice. Helga looked up at her and saw a strange look on her sisters face. One she had never seen before. One that kind of scared Helga. Which, considering it was Olga, was saying something. It almost looked like jealousy . . .

Helga had put everything in a suitcase and covered it all up with her stuff.

"Don't take too much," Olga told her. "I'll send along for most of it."

Again Helga looked at her sister. Who was this woman who seemed to be so strong all of a sudden. So in charge and organized. She always thought Olga would take her parents passing the worst. But it almost seemed as though she was thriving on the tragedy!

"What about the furniture?" Helga asked.

"It's all being donated. We have everything we need at home," Olga said, waving her hand dismissively. "We have better stuff anyway."

She watched as her sister spun on her heel and walked down to her old room. Helga's eyes started to tear up again. Not only had her parents been ripped away from her, but now she was being ripped away from everything she had ever known. Her home, her room, her neighbourhood, her school and teachers . . . Mr. Simmons! Oh, she had to see him before she left!

She got up, slipped on a jacket and ran down the stairs, pulling the door open.

"Helga, where are you going this late?" Steven asked.

"To see Mr. Simmons," she told him, and then she went out the door and down the steps, but hadn't gotten far when a hand stopped her.

"Helga, it's too late," Steven said, pulling her back. "And it's not safe for a young girl to be running around alone at night."

"But-"

"No buts. If we have time we can go see him tomorrow," Steven told her gently. "If not, you can write him a letter."

A letter! A letter! Mr. Simmons deserved more than a letter from her! But she could see there was no point in arguing with him, so she let herself be led back into the house, his warm large hand closing over hers. She followed him quietly, looking up at him from behind, and sighed. Walking along and holding his hand . . . this was something she had always wanted to do with Arnold. It was such a romantic thing to do. And here she was walking along and holding hands with her brother-in-law. Hardly romantic! Especially seeing as how he still saw her as a "kid".

…..

It was a three hour drive to Olga and Steven's house. Helga actually hadn't been there before, though her parents had. Helga had never been interested in visiting her sister. As the last town dropped away behind them, Helga started seeing clear fields, that turned in forest. She frowned. Exactly where was this house?

Eventually the car slowed down as it came to a huge stone wall that had a huge iron gate. Stonefield Manor was in big letters above it. Helga smirked. Manor? And who the heck had extravagant entryways like this anymore? But as the gates opened, and they drove up the long driveway, Helga knew who. Her sister and her husband. The house finally came into view and Helga's breath caught in her throat. It. Was. Huge! She had never seen a house so big before.

"There must be a hundred bedrooms!" she blurted out. Steven and Olga laughed at her, earning a scowl. Helga didn't like being laughed at.

"Close," Steven said. "There's twenty bedrooms, each with their own bathroom, except downstairs in the servants quarter, where there is six rooms and three bathrooms."

Helga's mouth dropped open. Twenty bedrooms!? What would anyone need with twenty bedrooms?

"When this house was built, we had bigger families," Steven explained. "And of course your kids would get married and have children of their own. So you needed a lot of rooms to accommodate them all."

"But I thought you were an only child?" Helga asked.

"I am," he confirmed. "But a house doesn't grow or shrink based on how many people live in it."

As they pulled up to the huge mansion, Helga couldn't help but smile. 'Eat your heart out Rhonda!' she thought quietly. Oh, how she would love to invite her here and rub her nose in it!

"We have an indoor pool and an outdoor pool, a maze, and a rose garden," Steven told her. "I can't believe you've never come here before."

"I need to get inside and have a bath and a nap!" Olga declared, getting out as the car stopped. "It's been such a drain!"

Steven and Helga sat in the car and watched her climb the stairs.

"How old is this house?" Helga asked, getting out as well. She looked over to see Steven giving Olga a hard stare. At the sound of her voice he looked at her and smiled.

foundation wise, two hundred years, give or take," he informed her. Helga almost fainted. "Of course, that's just a part of the bottom. It's been added to and taken away from every generation. So it depends what part you're asking about."

He got out and grabbed her suitcase. "Well, come on! I'll show you your room, and then if you're up to it, I'll show you around the house and property."

Helga hurried to follow him up the stairs. She didn't know much about house architecture, but she knew it was beautiful. Inside was polished wood floors and walls. There were plush expensive looking rugs on the floor in the entryway. Oh, wow, she was living in a house with an entryway! Steven handed her suitcase to a man standing by the doorway.

"In the room we had Cally get ready," he said.

"Very good, sir," the man said, then walked ahead of them.

"Where's Olga?" Helga asked. Steven made a face.

"In her room no doubt," he said dryly.

Her room? Helga wondered. Didn't she and Steven share a room? If she had a husband as handsome as Steven . . . she blushed and shook her head lightly. Then looked up to see Steven staring at her oddly.

"It's her choice," he said, seemingly reading her thoughts.

"Oh, uh, I, um, okay," Helga said, looking at her feet. Gah. What had happened to her? She used to be the most feared, most loud-mouthed opinionated person in the world. Now she was reduced to a stammering mess in front of her brother-in-law. She looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Maybe that was it? So much had changed already so quickly . . .

….

She gazed about her room confused. This didn't look like a bedroom. It looked like a lounge. A small one, sure, but one non the less.

"Your bedroom is through here," Steven told her, opening another door and walking through. Helga followed him in and gasped. A four poster, polished mahogany bed with a blue lace canopy sat in the center against the wall. It was intricately carved with flowers. She looked at the dressing table which looked to match, and the carved doors on the amoire.

"Wow," she breathed. It was amazing. Steven laughed. She walked up to the bed and pulled a cord. A lace curtain fell across, shutting off her view of the top half of the bed. "It's beautiful."

"I'm glad you like it," he said smiling. "Your sister took hers down. Apparently she kept getting caught in it."

Helga looked back at him again. That was the second time he seemed to have a criticism for her sister. Helga wasn't used to hearing people criticize Olga. Olga was always perfect. Or so everyone thought. Helga knew better. And seemed Steven did, too.

And through this door here," he continued, walking over to another door, "is your bathroom."

Helga followed him through the door and into her own bathroom. She'd had her own bathroom back home, seeing as Olga was no longer home and her parents had an ensuite. The only time she ever had to share was when Olga and Steven came to stay.

There was a claw bath sitting up on a little dais, with gold plated feet and taps, and steps leading up to it. She looked over to see a beautiful shell shaped sink. There were pink candles on little glass dishes on the window sill. There was so much bench space. Everything was so elaborate and over the top that Helga started to feel uncomfortable.

"What do you think?" he asked, looking at her.

"It's . . . big," she finally said. Steven laughed again.

"You'll get used to it all," he told her. "Do you think you're up for a walk around the grounds? Or do you need a nap?"

"I'm up for it," she snapped. In reality she wanted to try out that bath, and climb into bed, maybe have a small cry then go to sleep. She might've considered getting up for dinner. But the way he had asked her sounded more like a challenge. She had the feeling it was also his way of mocking her sister.

"Then follow me," he said, holding out his arm. She took it.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Helga was amazed at everything. He showed her the indoor pool, spa and sauna, then they walked out to the outdoor pool. She couldn't wait to write back and tell Arnold! Maybe she would even take pictures and write all about it to Rhonda Lloyd. Just to show off. This was the kind of place she would dream of having! The outdoor pool was made to look like a rock pool. There was even a small waterfall hiding a cave behind it.

"At night, when you light it up, it's beautiful," Steven told her. "I once set up a romantic dinner here for your sister and i."

"That would have been amazing," Helga breathed. She was swooning. She could easily see herself and Arnold, out here under the night stars, pool lit up . . . maybe they would even take a dip . . .

"It was," Steven admitted. "But I didn't realize at the time that your sister was not a fan of the outdoors. Apparently it was too cold and she could hear a mosquito." Steven followed that with a laugh. Helga smiled but couldn't help but think how ungrateful her sister had been. She would have fallen in love instantly with a man who did something that romantic for her.

"She's just ungrateful," Helga muttered.

"Yeah," she heard Steven say quietly, looking back at the "house".

Once again Helga frowned. She had thought her sister had the perfect marriage. But she was beginning to think that everything wasn't as good as she had thought.