I was cleaning on the second floor in the east wing when I heard music. I was only sixteen at the time, and new exactly what music it was. A song from sleeping beauty, it was ballet music.
How strange. I thought, and went to investigate. I found the room that we didn't clean often, and Olivia forbade us to go into. I looked around, the old bat's not here; go inside, a small voice urged me. I let it win and headed inside. What I saw astounded me, two young children and an eighteen year old boy.
I held in my scream. The boy looked at me in the strangest way, "Who are you?" He asked.
"I think the correct answer is, who are you?" I countered.
He gave me that look again, was he smirking? "Chris, I'm Chris. This is Cory and Carrie. We're waiting for our grandfather to die so that we can be set free."
I shook my head, "you mean Mr. Foxworth? He died seven months ago, and his daughter Corrine will get his money as soon as Olivia passes on."
Chris looked dumbfounded, and a girl came down the steps. "Chris, who are you…" Her eyes landed on me.
"He's dead," Chris's voice was hoarse, "Cathy he's dead."
I looked from one of them to the other. "Um, how long have you been up here?"
The one who was Cathy gave me the same look that her brother had, "Two years and some months." Her eyes turned to rage and desperation, "you mean, our Grandfather is dead?"
I nodded, "I can get you out of here. My father lives some states away, I can take you to him."
Cathy and Chris exchanged a glance and each scooped up one of the younger children. I plastered a small smile on my lips, trying to cover up the panic swelling up inside me. Who were these children? These poor children, with the sunken cheeks and the hollow eyes; with the cracked lips and thin, straight bodies. "Great, then, let's go."