.. well, I thought it was a face at the window." She seemed embarrassed to be talking about it."It's ok. I don't think you're crazy." I assured her."I...m not CRAZY!" Trish sharply replied, before checking back on her flash of anger. "I'm sorry. I just was a little scared." It's fine. You've been here what, three days?" I began, trying to reassure her. "It's a big house, and there's a lot of stuff you don't hear normally." Yeah, you're right. It just really freaked me out for some reason." She. Before I could talk to Alissa, Michelle walked in, already with his arms open for a hug. He was a big Italian from Rome, with long blonde hair, striped blue and black buttoned down shirt, and very tight black trousers kept in place by a belt with a huge buckle sporting the initials of a famous fashion brand. He could be easily mistaken by a woman on the street, if seen from afar. When I stood up, Alissa did the same, which surprised me. Yet another proof that she cared, no matter what was. More

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