"Hey, you!" I almost shouted and the girl whose back was facing me jumped up in fear.

"O-Oh! Greetings." the female mumbled and turned around, stumbling on the ends of her long dress.

"It's you."

"It is me. Do I know you?" she chuckled, playing with the fabric of the coat loosely hanging from her pale shoulders. 

"No, I just kinda saw you at the police station a while ago." I replied and she frowned. Tears were still pooling in her swollen eyes, hidden behind her long eyelashes. 

"You did?" she asked, a soft shade of pink spreading across her white cheeks "Sorry about that."

"Nah, it's cool." I shrugged and stepped closer "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, really" she lied, flinching and moving away from me as if I was going to hurt her. 

"Aw, come on!" I took another step near her, smiling the widest I ever had in my life. I figured it was the only way to make her feel comfortable and stop shaking."You were crying."

"It's nothing. Father was just a little harsh" she replied and resumed her walk on the aisle, going up and down and looking at the shelves. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the textured frames in silence yet I could sense she was itching to feel them against her fingertips. 

"Is the sherrif your father?" I asked, gritting my teeth. No wonder the poor girl was crying, the dude is an actual .

"Yes." she mumbled and finally took a picture frame in her hands. It was one of the most extra my mother put on the shelves; a wooden frame with ridiculously big and abstract carvings, fake stones, and glitter. 

"Sooo..." I started "Are you new in town? I swear I haven't seen you at school."

"My family and I moved here a week ago," she mumbled a response "But I don't go to school. That is the reason you have not seen me." 

"Wow cool." I let out. The girl didn't seem like one of those who dropped out of school. From her posture and looks to the way she talked, that girl poured of elegance. You can literally smell her money, taste her wealth. 

"I am homeschooled." the girl said. 

Well, what did I expect? Of course she didn't drop out.

"You're what?"

"Home-schooled," she repeated "There's is a teacher coming to my house everyday and teaches me." 

"Why don't you just go to school?" I asked, watching her every move. I couldn't help but to notice the way her long fingers trailed the carved frame and her face twisting in excitement. 

"Father believes it is better if I do not go out of the house. This way I will be safe at all times." the girl responded lowly, letting the f