Harry had been gone for the whole day. I hadn't spoken to him again after our awry conversation yesterday. He hadn't made an effort to talk to me either and it stung me at the chest everytime I was reminded of him. Could he be out with Kaylee? He probably was.

These fruitless, irrational thoughts had been so persistent in occupying my mind for the past few days that more important things slipped out. My conscience stirred up guilt in me, reprimanding me for forgetting about my mother. Darren had told me she wasn't in the healthiest state and here I was dwelling on a guy whilst she suffered at home in our cramped apartment.

Harry promised that he'd arrange for me to see her but he still hadn't mentioned anything related to it. He probably didn't mean it, like how he didn't mean the things he said yesterday about liking the way he was when he was with me. I felt pathetic for letting his words get to me.  I had absolutely nothing to offer him, unlike Kaylee. Why would any guy choose me over her?

Alright Thalia, that's enough, my conscience scolded. And she was right. My top priorities were safely getting out of this place and, of course, taking care of my mother, as I didn't think I would be able to bear with another calamity. Harry was not on the list.

I snapped out of my thoughts when a shaky wail sounded in the laundry room. Recognising it as Mrs Briffen's, I rushed in to see a basket on the tiles of the floor with clothes scattered all about. The grey-haired woman had her back arched with an expression so distraught it pained me too.

"What happened?" I asked, placing my hands on her shoulder to offer comfort.

"I was just about to throw the clothes into the machine. I bent down... bent too much." She managed to explain in spite of the apparent pain that washed her features.

"You should sit down. I'll help with the clothes." I led her to sit on a wooden chair by the washing machines.

"Thank you, dear." She said as she very gradually positioned herself on the chair. "One of the cons of being old."

"I'd choose to be in your place any day." I told her with a light sigh before picking up the clothes on the floor. Harry's clothes. I tried to ignore the fact and bundled the jeans and shirts in the laundry basket.

"Harry opened up to you, didn't he?" Mrs Briffen said quickly and then bit her lip. "Sorry, just ignore me."

"How did you know?" I squinted faintly.

"I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I was just sweeping along the corridor the other night and I heard." Eavesdropping was one of the things Mrs Briffen did with strong enthusiasm. "I only heard a few things, I swear."

She probably heard the whole conversation. "He did." I admitted, dropping the weight of the basket on the machine.

"Harry doesn't just open up to people like that." She claimed with a meaningful smile. There she goes with the match-making. Mrs Briffen, of all people, knew very well how complicated things were between Harry and I but she just wouldn't give up. She believed that I was the 'saviour' or something.

"Harry was a timid child. Afraid of the littlest things." She let out a chuckle. "A vast contrast to how he is today. His father made him this way, you know."
Harry? Timid? The two couldn't be in the same sentence. It didn't sound right.

"Too bad." I said, shrugging. "He's very controlling now."

"Damian brought home ladies often, even when Harry was around. He's seen his father beat them." Her eyes widened momentarily.

Chills shot up my spine. "Really?"