"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." – A. A. Milne
This begins Part 3 - The Shelter In the Storm. If you haven’t read any of Part 1, it is best that you start here → Prologue
Rachel
Rachel walked along the path to the front door carrying her large duffel bag. She was finally going to college. Her heart pounded, and she quivered inside at the thought that her inspiration and dreams would soon become a reality.
Her best friend, Sara, struggled with all her bags but somehow reached the door before Rachel. Before Sara rang the doorbell, the door opened wide, and a tall, muscular woman, whom Rachel presumed was the landlady, appeared. Sara rang the doorbell anyway. And again. Then she bent down to stare into the doorbell camera.
“Is there anyone watching us?” Sara asked.
The severe-looking landlady shot a momentary flat stare behind Rachel to the old man who had driven them there, Mr. Powell. His warm, reassuring smile disarmed her completely. The woman relaxed her stance and gave what appeared to be her best reassuring smile.
“I’m Lara, your host. Welcome to your new home,” Lara said.
Sara introduced us all. “I’m Sara. That small one under the messy, black hair is Rachel. And the old man is Mr. Old Guy.”
Before Lara could reply, Sara darted past her and began exploring.
Lara turned to Mr. Powell. “Is there anything I can help with?”
In his gentle manner, he replied, “Thank you, Lara. They can manage, and I think the hyper one has already given herself the tour. Just let them know how to contact you.”
Lara gestured toward the kitchen, “There’s a list of contact numbers next to the fridge, and I have a small cottage out back by the pool.”
Sara’s ears perked up. “You have a pool.”
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