My cousins and I get together every winter holiday at our Grandmother’s estate in Shire Hills. It’s cold and the world outside has turned white. The adults are out, on work-business matters. We don’t mind, we thrive alone in a big house left for us to muck about. Playing and having fun, kid or teenager, it doesn’t matter, all togther. It’s like we’re reclaiming a childhood, whenever we gather togther; in this particular place, at this time of the year. It’s a certain atmosphere that’s short-lived but blissfully cozy. We were lounging in the living room, throwing about suggestions of what could do. We finally all agree to indulge in a game of hide and seek. Classic sure but in this house this game will last a good while and is taken quite seriously. When the question of seeker is brought up, we all unanimously agree; the eldest should go first. Neil, lowers his head in resignation. “Right, I’ll count to there minutes in the drawing room”. Thus, we begin. We group up in trios and pairs. The little ones, the boys, the girls, the closest in ages. We run about in a frantic manner, keeping up that sense of thrill. Some of us go upstairs, some go for the closests in the hallways. Linda, James and I, head for the top of the top. Are we going to the balcony or the attic? We’re not quite sure. When everyone finally settles down in there hiding spots, the house is still and silent. The only possible sound is from hushed whispers and messages on our family group chats. Except, this is where things take a turn, what happens now is something we cannot see, something we didn’t see. Our parents came home abruptly to a silent and lifeless home. What they perceived must of been they’re worst nightmare. For how they reacted next… let’s just say we all began to question who our parents really were after today.