Enid's POV:
Ever since I've been homeschooled I haven't been able to use any devices that contain social media or anything I can contact my friends with, so having a lot of free time while not having my phone can be really really boring. I've spent most of my time watching shows or movies, reading, writing more letters for Wednesday and I occasionally go for walks near our house. And since all of my brothers aren't home because of university, I have been obliged to spend time with my mother.
Pugsley has visited once after that day where he gave me Wednesday's letter, I was able to give him the first letter I wrote for her back, but it's been a week since he came and I've been wondering if Wednesday has read it.
"Enid, have you seen my book? The one we just bought." My mother asks as she enters the living room.
"Oh, uhhh.." I mumble while I lay on our beige corner couch, reading the same old magazine as yesterday. "You mean 'Little Women'?"
"Yes. Yes, that one." She responds as she paces around the living room, looking around for it.
"Upstairs. It's on my desk." I tiredly explain, flipping the page of my magazine.
"Okay, thanks, Enid." She utters as she walks up the stairs.
"Mhm, whatever." I mumble under my breath.
After some minutes of flipping through the pages I wonder what is taking my mother so long. I remember it being right in the middle of my desk.
I sit down and I place the magazine on the couch, I let out a loud sigh as I stand up and head to the stairs. Slowly, I walk up the stairs and see the slightly opened door to my bedroom. I unhurriedly approach my room. Then, I see my mother right in front of my desk, holding something as she looks down at them.
"Mum?" I ask, walking closer to her. "Did you find the book?"
She slowly turns around, facing me. Her blank expression worries me.
"What happened?" I question, my brows furrow.
My eyes shift to the pieces of paper she's holding. My stomach drops as I recognise the lined papers filled with my writing; my eyes scan the papers and I see her name written over and over again in the first line of every letter.
"Mum..." My eyes don't leave the papers, I struggle to look at her. "It's— It's not what it looks like."
"It's not what it looks like?" She echoes, but her tone is way more angrier than mine. She pauses and I notice her silently gulp.
"Look," I glance at her, my eyes darting around her face: the inner corner of her brows lower, and her lips curl into a frown. "I don't... how did you find them?"
"I'm the one asking the questions here!" She furiously yells. "Have you been contacting that freak!?"
I look down, unable to talk.
"Answer the question!" She demands.
I stare at her with my head down, I leisurely nod my head. She grits her teeth as she sees my answer, looking away. She grasps the paper tighter as she drops her hands to her sides, placing them on her hips.
"Mum, I'm sorry." I quietly murmur.
"No you aren't." She utters with her back turned to me. "Stop lying to me."
A quivering sigh of defeat leaves my lips.
"You know, I thought you'd change your... unusual behaviour. I guess I was wrong." She starts tearing up the papers and dropping them on the floor. Out of extinct, I move closer to get the papers off of her hands but I know better than that. "I'm going to call your father and we will talk about what to do with you, young lady."
