“Here, drink this.”

A middle-aged woman placed a glass of water on the table, dropping a pair of white rings that dissolved in the liquid. Her attire was all black—something usually a bandit would wear. Her blonde hair was tied into a clean bun, and her eyes reminded me of two glittery lakes.

I sat upright, sinking into the fluffy couch. My head and entire body felt heavy, almost as if tied to the bottom of the sea. Tight pressure squeezed my stomach. It felt uncomfortable, but it was bearable.

I attempted wiggling my fingers on my left hand, though I was met with resistance. I raised my arm. A tan cast looped around my mid-forearm and up to my fingers. An extra pad rested between my skin and the cast.

A random woman treating a random person’s wound? It wasn’t unheard of, but acts of kindness nowadays were somewhat rare.

"My hand... what did you do?"

She gave a warm smile. "I scanned your injuries. Besides the glass piercing your skin, you have a tendon tear. Luckily, it is a small tear. Nothing major. Unfortunately, the splint has to stay on for a few weeks. As for the pain, I injected a painkiller that will last around 96 hours. Don't use that hand, and it'll be less painful, and it'll heal quicker. As for your forehead, I applied a bandage cloth, which you can remove if you like."

I did just that and placed it on the side.

I brought my right hand to my face. Ahhh… where the hell was I? Who was this woman? Everything felt hazy. The last thing I remembered was running from a SCAR agent.

Oh. That’s right. How could I forget?

“Are my friends ok? Where are they?”

“Two are in the other room, waiting for you to regain consciousness. The other is still asleep. I patched him up, so he’s ready to go whenever he awakes.” Her voice was sweeter than maple. “I suggest you not quarry much and focus on yourself. Here, drink up.”

The glass sat on the rectangular table. The brim edges were coated with an eerie black, and the middle was clear glass. This was drastically different from the table at home. Was I in a different world?

She grabbed the glass, hovering it over my lips. “It leaves a horrific aftertaste, but bear with it. It will help with your head.” Her smile was rendered with pure innocence.

“I-I can drink it myself.”

I carefully grabbed it from her hand, drinking whatever she gave me. The glass was half-empty after a few gulps. It kicked in when I smacked my lips. Having the urge to vomit, my hand went straight to my mouth. Once she took the glass out of my mouth, I collapsed with his face buried between a pillow and the couch cushion, puking a handful of coughs.

She wasn’t lying when she said that. It was beyond repulsive. It tasted like a dirty floor filled with the bottoms of travelers' shoes, with a hint of animal feces.

“Here, take this.” A white ring, sealed in a clear wrapper, bonked my head. I grabbed it off the ground, giving it a hard stare before I said:

“I’m not taking this.”

She shook her head, smiling. “It’s to freshen your mouth.”

“Doubt it.”

“You’re not obligated to take it, but it's suggested. Otherwise, your breath will be extremely questionable.”

I sighed, tore the wrapper off, and tossed it into my mouth.

There was a crack with every chew. It tasted like a cool winter, refreshing my mouth with every breath. Eventually, I chewed it to powder, dissolving onto my tongue. It was the complete opposite of the drink. Instead of coughing a storm, I wanted to ask for another one. But I restrained myself. I didn’t want to come off as greedy.

Out of boredom, I glanced around the room. Multiple framed paintings of people I didn’t know hung on the walls. In front was a fireplace with a few ashy logs. On top was a mantle where more paintings were lined across equally. The same faces repeatedly reappeared. Attached to the ceiling were magical spheres of light. There were no candles in sight. It was magic that illuminated the room with yellow. My instincts forced me to look away from the sphere. It was like looking at multiple miniature suns.

I groaned as if I had woken up from a deep nap.

“I want to see my friends.”

“Not yet. I have a few things I’ve been wanting to ask.”

I raised a brow. “Like…?”

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you? The place where questions lead to immediate answers.”

Did this mean...

...after all these years?

I jerked my body towards her. “I’m at the House with Answers?!”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

She smiled, nodding her head once. “Your struggle didn’t go unnoticed.”

My body felt drastically lighter, like someone pulled me up from the sea. I made it. See, everyone, I made it.

“Then…how… how do I—”

“You’ll get your answers after I get mine.” The sweetness in her voice bittered. “Just to confirm, you’re the girl—the girl who’s attempted to come here multiple times, right?”

“So you know?”

She smiled again. I didn’t think I'd see her not smile once. “Yes, I do. My knowledge is mostly blind, but I know of you. After all, you’re my most determined and frequent visitor.”

I squeezed the pillow beside me with a fist. “Visitor? Calling me a visitor?" That remark alone sent waves of anger crashing inside my head. “Is your heart that shallow? Do you have the nerve to take this so lightly after everything? You’re tainted with their blood. You could’ve stopped the agent from preventing their deaths, but instead, you did nothing!”

“I did nothing because I can not do anything.” She still had that stupid smile on her face.

I raised the pillow above my head like a sword. “Bullshit. You’re telling me you didn’t have control of what happened? Am I supposed to believe that sorry attempt for a lie?”

She leaned closer, unphased of the pillow that could strike her skull.

“Their deaths had nothing to do with me. Believe me when I say this: I would have prevented it from happening if I could. But that authority isn’t mine. It belongs to SCAR’S. Their blood is stained on SCAR’S hands, not mine.”

I dropped the pillow on the floor. “You’re claiming innocence? And I should believe you?”

“That agent spies outside of the house at all times. When someone is perceived as a threat, it does what it’s programmed to do.”

“A threat to what? You?”

She clicked the roof of her mouth. “Not necessarily me, but to my isolation.” Her words lowered by the syllable. It was the first time I saw her not smile.

“Isolation?”

She looked down at the class, curling her lips into her mouth as if she didn’t want to say anything further. She was lost in thought. It was probably something she didn’t want to mention.

“It’s a punishment I must face for atonement.”

I couldn’t care less about her punishment. It wasn't my business, so it’s not something I would poke my head into.

“Is that all? You just wanted to confirm who I was?”

She got up, smiling once again. “I’ll go get your friends.” The woman closed the door behind her.

Alone in the room, I placed one leg over the other. I was finally inside the house with answers. Everything that happened brought me to this point. The fated encounters, the vicious battles, the joyful chats, everything. Their deaths didn’t go in vain. I looked at the miniature sun, blinding myself.

See, Marshall, Ruby, Harley, Jeremy, I made it. I made it because of you all.

They saved me. Nourished me. Taught me. We laughed, cried, hugged, suffered. Without you, I would’ve been too fragile to reach this step.

“Thank you for everything.”

The brief moment to myself was interrupted by rumbling chatter through the walls. The door barged open as if the place was getting raided.

“Eggs are better sunny-side up!”

“Huh?! Who eats sunny-side-up? Have I been living with an animal this entire time? Scrambled is the way to go and the only way to go.”

“Scrambled eggs look so unappetizing. They look like a yellow blob of a loose brain.”

“Your imagination is ridiculous!”

I see they’re as lively as ever.

I buried myself under the pillow while the two were at each other’s necks. I was used to the loud and obnoxious environment, but for once, I wanted peace.

“That’s it! Jill, eggs, scrambled or sunny-side-up.”

“She’s going to say scrambled. After all, she adores my cooking the most.”

No, I just prefer it over Roger’s and Tim’s.

“Quiet and let Jill answer!”

“Demanding me to be quiet? Ironic coming from you.”

How did this get so heated?

“Shhhh. Let her answer.”

Silence imminently engulfed the room. They waited for my answer like two kids waiting for an award.

“Boiled.” The words muffled through the pillow.

““Huh?”” They said simultaneously.

I raised my head so my mouth wasn’t stuffed with comfort. “Boiled.”

“Yep, she’s officially crazy.”

“For once, you're right, Roger. And I believe I owe you an apology. Sunny-side up isn’t as bad compared to boiled.”

“What’s wrong with boiled eggs? And why did you gag while saying ‘boiled?’”

They stayed silent.

“Is anyone going to answer me? Roger, Owen?”

They remained silent like sculptures.

I mumbled under my breath, “Curse you both.”

“Says the one who likes boiled eggs.”

Curse them all! Seriously!

While I debated whether or not to engrave their heads on the wall, a knock came on the door. The woman stood by the entrance, her hand leaning against the wall.

Her eyes widened with a baffled expression. “Are you guys always like this?”

“Not really. It’s normally pretty quiet.” That answer alone caused Owen and me to shoot daggers at him.

She didn’t buy it due to our blank stares since she unconfidently replied, “Anyways, your other friend is awake, but it is heavily advised that you stay in bed for a few hours, give or take.”

“Can I see him?”

“Of course. You remember where the room is, right?”

Roger gave a quick thumbs-up. “Yep. You come as well, Owen, Jill?”

“Damn right, I am. You know how much of a hard time he gave us? I’m going to knock his ass back to sleep,” Owen rebuked, cracking his knuckles.

“You coming, Jill?”

“I’ll stay here for a bit.”

He gave another thumbs-up and left the room with Owen. Once they left, the woman closed the door—not entirely, but just enough so no one could peek through.