She came home in order of her conscience and the love of her mother, father, and purple wall with faded words. She was the same, the home was not. "Will you stay?" Her mother asked. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she slept on the floor facing the purple wall. She was crying until she fell asleep. That was the first tears since forever. And forever for her was started that day. The very day that she didn't want to talk about. Ever. Her mother knew and didn't say anything. And so did her father. Her mother also heard the muffled sound of crying. Her father didn't, for he was busying himself in the garage, doing absolutely nothing. And they didn't say anything. That was how that home worked since forever. They did everything and didn't say anything. Neither of them was the same.