Perhaps Lucas thought the same. To crush my hopes, he brought home a girlfriend on my twentieth birthday. I was devastated and hysterically tried to drive the woman away. That night, she was poisoned and I was accused.
The next thing I knew, Lucas had me committed to a mental institution.
***
After dinner, I managed to retrieve the keys to my old home from Dad. Before the accident, my parents and I lived in a small two-story house in the urban village. The yard was modest and old-fashioned and years of neglect had rendered it dilapidated.
Dragging my injured leg, I haphazardly cleaned up and settled in. The house was shabby, its walls marked with years of wear and tear and the furniture old and mismatched. Dust floated in the air, catching the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the thin curtains. Despite the worn surroundings, there was a comforting familiarity to it all.