Lauralye left her father and walked into the library. This place was comforting and held many memories that she liked to hide away in when her father was less than kind. She ran her hand along the spines of the books just barely looking them over. She remembered coming in here with her mother, sitting in a chair in the corner on her lap as she read to her. Lauralye remembered loving her mother's voice, now, she could hardly remember it. She dropped her hand from the books and walked to the corner where a single dusty chair sat. She stared at it. She hadn't sat in it since her mother's death... No one, to Lauralye's knowledge, had. Some days she wanted to sit in it, wondering if the chair would feel like her mother's lap. If the cushions would engulf her like her mother's arms. She knew well that it would not but she liked to imagine that the chair was her mother, waiting to read her a story.

She pulled her gaze away when she heard a noise. She saw Robert standing not to far from her. She blushed feeling as though she had been caught in a intimate moment. She smiled at Robert, "Good to see you are no longer in the dungeon."