After a hard day's work, it was time for everyone to retire. But slumber couldn't be long as the morning rays bled through the curtains and kept them all up. Helga especially couldn't rest well in the mansion's guest quarters. Her heart lay elsewhere, split between the monster that they fought not long ago and her daughters.
Pacing through the room, she stared at the floor, her eyes closely following her toes. Neither sound of mind nor of heart, she was perturbed by the ghost of the past. Like a zombie's arm tearing through its buried casket, that burning giant hand had thrashed her into pieces. At the time, she was able to put up a brave front, and what followed the next morning kept her mind off that problem.
