As Mrs Scott had done the cooking Anna andI did the washing up.As the evening progressed we managed to pack most of her room. Only whatshe needed, suc... as clothes, were not packed. When it was time to gohome her room was looking a lot less personal. The walls were bare, hercupboard now only containing her clothes. Well not quite just herclothes, it also contained the outfit I'd bought the other week. It wasthe very dress and jacket that I would be wearing tomorrow.When it was time to leave my. ‘What the –‘ I stopped myself before I said something entirely inappropriate. As she stepped closer, it was clear that at some point, she had been crying profusely: Her makeup had run in horrid streaks down her face. ‘Lost or runaway?’ ‘Runaway,’ she admitted, her voice small and ready to break. ‘The car finally ran out of gas and I just started walking…’ ‘Why?’ I asked as I lit a tall jarred candle. ‘Why brave the blizzard?’ She remained silent, a noticeable shiver passing through her. More

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