“Times flies over us, but leaves its shadow behind...” — Nathaniel Hawthorne

Snow.

Not the ones that quietly kissed the ground whispering out of touch.

No.

It was the ones that made you slightly tremble against the rising mounds, getting deeper and further with each increasing step.

Her timberland boots hit the pavement.

Her long cashmere trench coat wavered in the face of the rushing wind. The silky cotton of the beige coat was considerably thin. Never had it witnessed such frigid conditions within the past four years, for it had only enjoyed the beauty of lighter falls and flakes from the other side of the world.

She had underdressed for this occasion. Something tugged at the bottom of her lips. For she had nearly forgotten. Her last white winter had been quite some time ago. Gathering the remainder of her luggage, she pushed forwards lifting the enormous suitcase in her hands. She was almost there.

“Seungwan? Is that you?”

She froze.

Seungwan.

Son Seungwan.

Her name. Her birth name.

Her mask fell as she bowed before lifting her face. “Auntie Jung.”

Before she could say anything, the woman bounded outside gathering her in a crushing hug. Wendy stiffened, not knowing what to do with her hands. But it wasn't long before the woman with the bouncy curls straightened herself, snatching the baggage from the very grasp of her , and such pale hands. “Where are your gloves?” Auntie Jung gasped, before ushering her inside. “Darling our dear niece is here! It's Wannie, our Seungwannie!”

Wendy blinked standing at the doorstep. It was huge. This place. It was one of those modern day extravagant yet vintage spurred households where everything was arranged like a museum display. Orderly and symmetrical, with nothing out of place. The vast interior was adorned with lavish furniture of the French style, appraising the theme of white and gold. A simple yet sophisticated design that complimented the overly pristine and polished state of this home.

“Seungwan?”

Wendy tightened her scarf looking to the man that had abruptly materialised at the foot of the winding staircase. She bowed, nodding as he approached a little bit closer. “My you've grown...” Uncle Jung murmured gazing her up and down.

“Darling help her with the bags, the poor thing wasn't even wearing gloves!” Uncle Jung with a concerned look gently removed the weight in her arms. “Come in, you must be freezing.”

As soon as she entered, the door swung to an automatic lock. Warmth immediately settled around her as she nervously rubbed her fingers. “Sit, sit! What would you like, coffee? Tea?”

“Just water thank you.”

Pictures. That was the first thing that she noticed walking inside. There were millions of them. Professionally framed and hung like delicate mirrors across the hallway walls. They flickered with each passing light, a gradual progress of past to recent memories. A girl with raven black hair stared repeatedly back at her. Even through the lens, she could tell the girl was a natural. Pretty did not begin to describe her. Wendy had never recalled someone with such beautiful eyes. The girl was ethereal. Her skin glowed in all, as if she was a descendent from Aphrodite herself. Picture by picture, her features enhanced. However when Wendy reached the last photo, she paused. If the girl had been bright in the other photos, it was no longer here. For her present eyes were aggressive, with a noticeable vein marking her temple. formed a thin line, implying that of a forced smile.

“You've arrived just in time. I was baking brownies you see.” Wendy turned, watching her Aunt sprinkle the remaining icing sugar on the rich brown dessert. “Still you're favourite I hope?”

Taking a seat, she took a deep breath. The sweet chocolate aroma tingled her senses as her Aunt served her an ample slice on an exquisite rose gold plate. Taking a sip of water, Wendy slowly cut herself a piece and nibbled, savouring the familiar flavour. It was warm and practically melted on her tongue.

“Good?” Her Auntie beamed. “Fresh out of the oven. You used to devour these by handfuls you did. Three at a time.”

Wendy flushed remembering. Those monthly visits when she had to stay over due to her parents finishing up late. How they pampered her with food. But she hadn't been alone. There had been a partner in crime. The pictures.

“You remember Soojung, right? The two of you were quite the pair.”

Jung Soojung.

That was the name. The name that had faded.

“We did send her abroad so young at the time. She was only seven she was. Came back four years ago, just in time for high school. You two just missed each other.”

“She should be back soon from school actually.” Uncle Jung added, having just arrived from moving the luggage. Wendy stood up, bowing once more. “I placed your bags in her room.”

“I do apologise for the sharing dear. Didn't think the renovations for the other two bedrooms would take this long.” Auntie Jung brushed her hand holding it together. “Senior year and all. But Soojung's room is the biggest out of all of them, so hopefully it should be fine.”

“If it doesn't inconvenience you, sleeping on the couch is something I can—”

Auntie Jung was having none of it. She waved the hand just as Uncle Jung gave Wendy a thorough reprehensive stare. “Seungwan, under my house you are to be sleeping on a real bed. My dear child, we want you to be comfortable here.”

Auntie Jung