"Are you okay, Helga?" her tutor asked. "You seem distracted."

Helga looked up at the old woman. She was a retired teacher. She stayed during the week, and went home on the weekends and for holidays. Helga actually liked the old woman a lot. Something about her reminded her of Mr. Simmons. Mr. Simmons . . . she was wondering now if he had been getting her letters . . .

"I just have some personal things on my mind," she said.

"Well, don't let it distract you from your work," she told her, and went back to reading her own book. Helga continued with her work, but it was hard to concentrate when all she could see was her sister with her boobs almost hanging out of her top, while some man drooled at her, and then Steven with that woman . . . it made her feel sick. The fledgling crush she had been developing had crashed and burned after that! Her respect for both him and her sister was gone, and they both had noticed that her attitude towards them had changed. Helga didn't want to do things with Steven anymore. So far she had been lucky in Olga staying around home, constantly moaning about a headache, and having mood swings. At one point Helga wondered if maybe her sister was pregnant, but that had proved false when her sister did a test, freaking out the whole time, and it came back negative. Steven was constantly at her to go to the doctor and get herself checked out, but Olga would refuse.

And Olga . . . she would try to engage with Helga, but Helga wasn't interested. She'd finally sent a message to Arnold, and got a response. But there was only a certain area in the house where she could get good reception, and it was risky bringing it out in case she got caught. And she was terrified that she would be, so that had, so far, been the only communication she'd had with him.

Things got worse when the snow started to fall. When it fell here, there was no way anyone was going anywhere. And quite often they would lose even the phone line and once, the power. It was frustrating for Helga, who couldn't understand why, in this day and age, this could happen, that someone could be completely shut off from the world.

"How do you even run your business if you can't communicate with anyone?" she demanded in frustration one night at dinner. "I can't stand this! I'm going insane! I don't even have my tutor here because she can't get to me!"

She'd stormed off to her room, leaving her dinner unfinished, but not caring. When she got to her room she threw herself on her bed, all princess-dramatic, and started to cry. She eventually cried herself to sleep, but woke when she felt someone was staring at her. She woke with a start, and swore she heard the door to her lounge click shut. She laid perfectly still, her heart thumping, chocking back her fear. Eventually she got up, praying nothing would reach out from under the bed and grab her by the ankles, and walked through the lounge. No one was there, nothing had been moved. Maybe she had been dreaming?

. . .

"Were either of you in my room last night?" Helga asked her sister and Steven in the morning.

"No, why?" Olga asked, while Steven shook his head.

"I thought I heard someone in there last night . . ."

"Maybe you were dreaming," Olga suggested. "I've had those dreams. Scare the bejesus out of me."

Helga looked between the two of them, but they gave nothing away if either were lying. Then again, these two were good at lying. She looked down at her toast, suddenly losing her apatite, and pushed her plate away.

"You need to eat, Helga," Olga said. "You're too skinny for your age."

"Leave her alone, Olga," Steven snapped. Olga glared his way.

"I just don't feel like toast," Helga said. She picked up her glass of water and drank it in one go. She wasn't allowed coffee. Juice if it was watered down. She felt like a toddler. No, even as a toddler, she had more freedom.

"Do you have something to say to us after your outburst last night?" Olga asked, looking straight at her. Helga glared at her.

"Nope."

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Nope. Nothing. At. All."

Olga and her had a stare down, Olga looking away first. 'What a cheek,' Helga thought. She looked over at Steven who was staring at her hard. "What?"

He just shook his head, finished his breakfast, and left the table, saying nothing to either of them. It didn't go unnoticed by Helga either, the glare that followed him out. All she wanted to do was run away. But really, where was she going to go?

. . .

Summer, Grandpa will take us up there to the beach

Helga almost yelled for joy, but contained it. Hopefully she would see Arnold in the summer. Now how to get to the beach. It was good walk from where she was, but it was walkable. Maybe she could convince them she needed to get out and about. It had to work! She looked out the window of the attic. The snow was starting to melt, and greenery was peeking out in spots. Just another few months and she would be able to leave this house. Maybe take a real good walk around the perimeter, try to find a way to sneak off the property should she need to. The area was wooded, but that could work in her favor, right? It had too.

One night Steven managed to bail her up in the attic.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked, looking around. It was huge, and full of old furniture. Helga jumped. She'd only just put the phone in her pocket.

"Looking," she said, trying not to look guilty. "Out the window. Good view from up here. Trees are turning green."

He walked over to the window she was looking out and looked out himself.

"How far away is the beach?" she asked, sounding as innocent as possible.

"Why? Do you like the beach?" he asked. Helga just nodded. "About an hour to an hour and half walk, or the ten minute drive. Once it's warmer I'm happy to take you. Your sister isn't a beach fan though."

"That's alright. I thought maybe of inviting Lila over during summer," she said. She looked at him and saw him looking at her with a bit of suspicion. "What?"

"I was talking to Olga after Thanksgiving," he said. "From what she said, you and Lila never got along."

"That's because the boy I was in love with had a crush on her," Helga told him. "Plus she was always so cutesy."

"So what's changed?" he asked her, staring her down.

"Life."

. . .

Once spring was in full swing, Helga took a walk around the whole property. It took half an hour to walk around the main perimeter. She found a sturdy looking tree, and gave it a try climbing it. She got up, and looked over, but realized two problems. One, there was no way to climb back over, and two, barbed wire. Why was there barbed wire on top of such a tall fence? She could also hear it humming. Was it electrified? Cripes, talk about security overload! Suddenly she looked around, wondering if there were cameras in the trees. She was stating to get paranoid about being watched. Sighing she jumped down from the tree.

"Night swimming, beach going, now tree climbing?" she heard someone ask behind her. Whirling around she saw Steven standing there, arms folded across his chest. "What are you up to? I mean, really Helga."

She stood there, staring at him, trying desperately to think of a lie.

"Looking for an escape," she blurted out, then smacked herself in the head. Way to lie, nimrod! she berated herself.

"Escape?" he asked, laughing. "There's a front gate. You can push a button and walk out. No need to risk falling from trees."

Helga felt her face burning red. "Yeah, well, I didn't know if I'd be let out."

"Why wouldn't we let you out?" Steven asked.

"I haven't heard from anyone from my old friends," she admitted.

"Well, have you called them?" he asked.

Boom! Olga was responsible. If it was Steven he wouldn't be advising her to call out, would he?

"If you want to call a friend, Helga, just ask," he said. "And stop climbing trees, you might fall out and break something. It's a long drive to A&E."

She stood there watching him walk away, feeling betrayed by her sister. How could she do this? Hack her email, hide letters from Arnold, tell the help not to pass on messages . . .

"Steven!" she called out, running after him. She needed him on her side, obviously. He stopped and turned around.

"Helga," he said, grinning.

"Has Olga been hiding letters for me from me?" she asked. "When Lila was here she told me that a friend of mine had been writing to me, but I never got anything. He'd even left messages for me to call him."

"How'd you find that out?" Steven asked. "What would your sister accomplish doing that?"

"I got an email from him," she lied. "He had to send it from a new email, cause his old one kept bouncing back."

She watched as Steven just stood there staring at her blankly. Had she made a mistake in telling him? Then he frowned.

"Your sister has been acting odd, lately," he admitted. "I could look into it for you. No promises though."

"Is she sick?" Helga asked. "She's always got headaches, and your always telling her to go to the doctor. Should I be worried?"

"If she would go to the doctor we would find out," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know why she's being so stubbourn about this."

"There's something else," Helga said suddenly. "I saw you in the library with that woman at the New Years Party."

Steven looked shocked for a moment, before recovering, and nodding. "It's complicated. Mine and Olga's whole relationship is complicated. And open."

"Open?" she asked.

"We live together, but our lives are very separate," he admitted.

"But, your married," Helga pointed out. "Don't you love each other?"

"Of course, but you're too young to understand," he said.

"I'm about to turn sixteen," Helga informed him.

"And it's not really something I want to talk about with you," he said, turning and walking away from her.

"So my sister knows?" she called out.

"She knows!"

Helga stood there feeling even more confused than before. She had always thought herself so mature, so worldly. Now she was finding out that, despite what she thought, her parents had been protecting her from a lot of the adult world. And it was no wonder. Helga looked up at the big, grand house, that had captured her imagination and breath, and awe. It had seem beautiful when she first saw it. Now the windows felt like eyes staring at her, following her wherever she went. There was a coldness emmanating from it. Shadows were forming in the corners. She shivered. She did need to go for a walk or something, just to get away. She felt like she was going crazy.

. . .