"Daddy, Stop!" I put down the receiver, "I am not on the phone."
"I should hope not," Father said sternly but I was not listening.
She is okay and she loves me. And I love her.
I didn't get to tell her but she knows, I'm sure of it, as sure as the blackbird is of the sun rising each morning.
I needed to help her, as soon as possible, no matter the risk. We had a plan, but nothing else mattered to me but hearing her voice and feeling her lips against mine once more.
Running out of the hallway, I bumped past Edna, her teapot shattering on the porcelain tiled floor. I plastered a sneer onto my face and continued my ascent up the staircase as I heard a meek 'sorry ma'am' from behind me, aware of my father watching my actions closely.
When I reached the top of the stairs, floorboards creaking beneath my weight, I headed straight to the washroom. I needed a moment to breathe. Quickly leaving the washroom after swiping water over my face, I strode into my bedroom, picking up my travelling bag from beneath my bed, my fingers brushing against the chamber pot that Edna had cleaned just hours previously.
Suddenly, my door burst open, hinges creaking, the door swinging haphazardly. Edna's flushed face greeted me as I looked up calmly, having expected this intrusion. She moved closer to me, closing the door behind her, the creaking once again meeting my ears and echoing throughout my hectic yet blank mind.