Purple Summers strolled through the house from the inside out.
The house had two floors: the first floor was for living; the second floor was an attic, cluttered with various items and several mahjong tables.
Perhaps the previous residents used the attic as a mahjong room, but now it was abandoned, covered in a thick layer of dust.
Purple Summers did not find a suitable exit for escape, nor did she find any weapons to use against those two, not a knife, or a gun, not even a stick.
She felt that Nathaniel's room must have a gun, but his room was locked, inaccessible, and the kitchen knives were also locked in a cupboard when not in use.
Purple Summers leaned against the window, gazing through the glass at the outside.
The trees were bare in winter, their branches stretching out thin and stark, and beneath them lay unevenly spaced houses where she could faintly hear dogs barking.
...Being so far away, even if she screamed for help here, it would be no use, right?
