Morgan and his sister climbed out of the taxi. They had only been here a week and this was the third time he'd had to run out to the city and drag his sister back. She slammed the door and glared at her brother before all but storming off into their little cottage. Morgan sighed, running a hand through his hair. The witch had offered him a place of refuge for himself and his sister, but right now it seemed to be more trouble than it was worth. Michaline wanted no part in any of it, and only seemed to want to run away from help. He paid the cabbie and then followed his sister inside. He turned the coffee pot on and started brewing. Mic was sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV.
"You can't keep running out like that, Mic. There's nothing left for you in--"
"There's nothing for us here, Morgan! At least in the city we knew people and could make something work. Out here in the middle of nowhere we aren't doing anything!" She chucked the remote at him and stomped off to her bedroom, locking the door. She stared up at the huge sprawling mansion on the hill above them. Really, she could only see a few turrets and chimneys, but she knew what most of the outside looked like.
Morgan was also staring up at the house, but unlike his sister thinking about how to get out of here, Morgan was thinking about someone. Katrina, to be exact. It had been a few days since he'd seen her. Maybe he would go say hi later. But then, that would mean trusting his sister to be left to her own devices, which he couldn't. He sighed. And then he managed to burn his tounge on the coffee he poured for himself.