***
The drive back to Morgana's home was filled with a heavy silence. I sat beside her in the car even though I didn't feel like I was there. I had to sit in silence, otherwise I would have broken down once again and I was tired of crying.
I was tired of feeling miserable.
We had gone around the house four times, and Joaquin eventually broke the window of the downstairs toilet so he could crawl into the house, just in case something bad had happened that no one realised. But when he came around to open the door for us, he shook his head sadly.
“It’s empty,” he said. “To be honest, I don’t think anyone has lived here for a while now.”
His words haunted me as I stepped into my home; the place where I belonged, and yet it was nothing more than a desolate wreck now. Dust lay everywhere
