The room was completely silent. Eleanor was completely alone. Holding her breath as she walked, the crackling of the pebbles under her feet was the only noise she could hear. The uncontrollable feeling of dread washed over her; the memories and pain returned to her in full force. This was the house where she had watched her dear younger brother come to life. This was the house where her father had put her on his lap while he sang to her. This was the house where her mother prepared daily supper – the savory aroma of potatoes making Eleanor’s mouth water. This room was where they always prepared their Sunday clothes, heading off to that vile church every morning. Eleanor grimaced at the thought now – how much time had they wasted in that ‘House of God’? That house of lies? Everything was different now, everything had changed. Eleanor knew that the moment she looked up from the floor she would be met with the sight she had been dreading since she decided to return.