Love Burned, She Rose Unscathed

Louisa's face turned sour in an instant.

Norris chimed in, "Oh, right, I just used this mop in the bathroom and haven't had the chance to wash it yet. But it should be fine, our toilet isn't that dirty, no big deal. Louisa shouldn't mind, right?"

Mind? As if!

"Oops! Dad, did you forget..." Roseanne chimed in, "All the leftovers from dinner last night? I dumped them in the toilet. Even though I flushed, it still felt kinda greasy..." "Louisa, do you think you might smell a bit like... sewer water now?"

The father and daughter duo, with their back-and-forth, managed to gross Louisa out completely. Her previously smug expression turned as dark as a burnt pan in no time. "You-you guys-" She sniffed, almost convinced she could actually catch the scent of sewer water that Roseanne mentioned on herself.

"Just you wait!"

With those words, she stormed off.

A shower! She needed one immediately!

In that moment, Roseanne felt like she was "the ancient Greek goddess of mops"!

Madge, witnessing her daughter's antics, felt a mix of satisfaction and disapproval: "Ladies shouldn't be waving mops around, it's not becoming."

"Well, she asked for it..." Roseanne said, her eyes scanning the scattered wisteria flowers on the ground, feeling a pang of sadness. Norris started cleaning up quietly and said, "When the weather clears, I'll fix the flower trellis and move it to a better spot in the yard." He figured it was better to avoid making a fuss over trivial matters, especially if it wasn't a question of principle.

rather not see Madge go through this kind

pause, Roseanne said, "Dad, don't you think people will take advantage

today, she'd dare to

anything under five grand, and the cops won't bother. No one

decades. I know what kind of person she is better than anyone. But we live here, see each other every day. Constant fighting wouldn't

kept

Norris brushed off her suggestion as child's talk,

Where then?

thought was almost too

located in Pinehollow's most bustling area, the real estate prices had

living in the faculty housing

fourth day of the Christmas greeted them with a clear morning after a night of snow, the clouds parting to reveal a golden sunshine. Roseanne

Madge were awake, a warm breakfast awaited on the

porridge, pan-fried buns,

thumbs up, "You've got

rolled her eyes, "Our daughter's cooking is leagues better than

thanks to my genes? The talent runs in

"Sure, sure, it always comes back to