Hope was ecstatic. Here was a gift from God himself, presented in the form of a girl. When Hope looked at this girl, she saw potential. Faith-from-out-of-town was clearly troubled. She lacked belief and needed some brushing up on her religion. But it was nothing that Hope couldn't fix.

With great glee and pleasure, Hope took Faith under her wing and brought her along to each activity, ensuring that she was always occupied with something. Faith became her assistant of sorts – a shadow. In Hope's eyes, she was doing this girl a favour. Faith would thank her one day for opening her eyes and showing her the light.

Aside from this spontaneous surprise, Hope was feeling worn down and exhausted. She was up half the night, tossing and turning in bed, overthinking everything. Her mind was so busy and occupied that she simply could not rest. The entire world was spinning around in her brain, and nothing she did could make it cease. Plus, due to the fact that Felicity would be absent this week, Hope was going to have to pick up all of her duties, on top of her own, and work twice as hard. There was so much to be done.

Faith echoed this proclamation. "This is exhausting," she said, yawning.
"Only sometimes," Hope said, picking up the toys from the yard. The five-to-tens had just completed their outdoor time and had left the place a complete disaster.
"I'd much rather be in bed," Faith said. "Napping."
"Do you nap often?"
"Sometimes. If I'm tired."
"I can never nap," Hope told her, picking up another toy. "Too much to be done."
Faith gave her a funny look. "What, you mean to tell me that you've never napped?"
Hope shook her head. "I've tried, trust me. Sometimes I get really tired during the day. But every time I lay down and close my eyes, my mind starts thinking of everything that I have to do. Everything that needs to be done. And so I just get up and do it."
"That's strange."
"Not really. I quite enjoy being kept busy."
"Not the part I was referring to."
"Anyways," Hope continued. "Your mother seems to think you're quite a delinquent. Care to explain?"
"Not really."
"You don't seem all that bad."
Faith laughed. "Well, thank you, I guess."
"You're welcome." Hope picked up another toy and placed it in the basket. "How are you adjusting to Meadow? Do you enjoy it yet?"
"No," Faith scoffed. "It's awful here."
Hope looked at her. "You don't mean that."
"I do. I'm sorry. It's just not the place for me."
"You still miss home."
"Obviously."
"Are you from the city?"
"Somewhere in between."
"Do you consider yourself more country, or city, then?"
"Neither," Faith said. "I just am where I am."
"That doesn't make sense."
"A lot of things don't make sense."
Hope nodded, unsure of what to say next. "Well, that's all of them. Ready to head back inside? We can monitor the arts and crafts room."
"Sounds exhilarating!" Faith turned around and began heading back towards the church.
Despite Faith's lack of authentic enthusiasm, Hope couldn't help but smile.

______

It was just after three o'clock and they were nearly done for the day. All of the participants had left the building, and all that remained were the staff. Hope was cleaning up and organizing, talking to the rest of the counselors. She glanced over and saw Faith sitting on a chair in the corner. Hope hesitated, then made her way over.

"You haven't left," Hope remarked.
"I didn't think I was allowed to."
"Oh, so now you follow rules?"
"I didn't want to get in any more trouble than I already am," Faith said. "Who knows what she might do next – enroll me in night classes?"
Hope stared at Faith, examining her, deciding what to say next. "What are you doing right now?"
"Sitting here, talking with you."
"So, nothing?"
Faith shrugged.
"Come on, then," Hope grabbed her hand and helped her up. "We're going on an adventure."
"Oh dear God."

Hope didn't drive. She didn't even have a car. Although, that shouldn't have stopped her. She could have easily gotten her licence a year ago and been using her parent's. But she never felt the need. Everywhere in Meadow was within walking distance. And if she didn't feel like walking, she took her bike.

Hope unlocked her bicycle from the bike rack, put the chain in her backpack, and walked it over to Faith who stood on the sidewalk watching.

"What's this?" Faith said, eyeing the bike.
"It's a bicycle."
Faith looked at Hope. "Yes, I'm not a complete imbecile, I know what a bike is."
Hope laughed. She was slowly adjusting to Faith's sarcasm and dark humour and thought it was comical. "To ride, silly."
"You want me to ride your bike?" Faith said. "Why?"
"Because I can walk. Here," she rolled it closer to Faith.
Faith reached out and put her hands on the front. "For real?"
"Just get on and let's go."
"Alright," Faith took in a breath and got on the bike.
They proceeded on like that, Faith pedaling slowly on the bike, Hope walking beside her.
"So where exactly are we going?" Faith asked.
"You'll see."
"Please spare me, I hate surprises."
"But surprises are fun."
"Where are we going?"
Hope debated telling her. She debated giving in and sparing her the agony. Hope could have told Faith. Easily. It would have made things more comfortable between them. But instead, Hope decided not to.
"I said," Hope repeated. "You'll see."

Fifteen minutes later, they had arrived at their destination. Hope smiled, remembering this place all too well. She hadn't been in a long time. She used to come here when she was younger. All the kids in Meadow did. It was the place to venture and explore. The place you didn't tell your parents about. And now, she was here with Faith.

"I don't get it," Faith said, examining the empty, half built house in front of them.
"A man started building it for his wife in the early 1900's," Hope explained. "She was sick, you see, so he built it as a gift for her when she got better. Except she never did. She died. And when she died, he killed himself because he could not live without her. And this," Hope gestured to the house, "was what he left behind."
"Sounds tragic." She turned to Hope. "So why exactly are we here?"
Hope shrugged and began walking forwards. "I thought it would be neat to show you. You probably love stuff like this."
"Why do you say that?" Faith asked, following behind her.
"I don't know. I just have a feeling."

They walked through the field to get to the house. The grass and weeds were unkempt, long and overgrown. Faith pushed the bike through with much resistance. Once they were in the clearing, she set the bike down on the ground.

Hope led the way, going up the front steps and through the vacant door.

Faith hesitated, stopping in her tracks. "Are you sure this is safe?"
Hope turned around and looked at her. "I thought you didn't play on the safe side?"
"Yes, but leaving here alive would be great also."
"Don't worry," Hope said as she walked through the main floor. "Meadow is just about the safest place on the planet."
"I hope you're right."

Faith followed Hope into the half-finished kitchen. There were cupboards, a countertop, and an empty square on the back wall to where the backdoors would have been. They explored the main floor, stepping over broken floor boards and pushed-over furniture.

"Why is it such a mess?" Faith asked.
"People used to come here to drink and party," Hope said, looking back at Faith. "Terrible, right?"
"Totally," Faith said, but knew deep down that she probably would have done the same.
"Also from weather and stuff. It's been here a long time. Places like this wear down after a while from the environment. They don't stay pristine forever."

Hope walked back towards the front door and headed up the staircase. It was beautifully structured, a circular staircase with a wood-stained handle.

The upstairs was surprisingly well-kept, unlike the main floor. There were five bedrooms and a bathroom. Hope and Faith walked around, exploring each one meticulously. The first was designed, they presumed, for a little girl. It had dark pink walls and a tiny white bed in the corner.

"Did they have children?" Faith asked.
"I don't believe so. They say he did the bedrooms just in case. They always wanted children. Just never had a chance."

They spent time in each room, as though the would-have-been habitants were in the rooms with them. It was a peculiar feeling, Hope thought. Being there in their absence. Although, there was no them to mourn. Still, it gave her an odd sense of despair.

After they finished the grand tour, Hope and Faith left the house and headed back outside. Faith picked up the bike and stood there, gazing at the house.

"So," Hope said. "What did you think?"
Faith took a moment to answer. "It was actually really cool. Thank you for bringing me here."
"You liked it?"
"I did. It's very eerie. And gothic. I love it."
Hope smiled. "Good. I'm glad."
"I just might have to come back here."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Next time I need a drink or a place to party."
Hope rolled her eyes and laughed. "Good one."
She began walking through the field and Faith followed behind her.

They walked and talked for what felt like hours, when in reality, it was sixty minutes. They walked back the way they came, past St. Andrew's, down by the lake, and through the town square. For Hope, it was reassuring. She felt as though she had broken through a barrier with Faith. This girl she hardly knew, yet wanted to befriend and help. Hope could sense a feeling of brokenness in Faith. How could she not? It wasn't necessarily that she radiated tragedy or wore a flashing sign that read damaged. But Hope could tell. And she would make it her new objective to help this girl. To simply be there for her.

To Faith, Hope was a burden. Faith was very close-minded, never open to new ideas or opportunities. She hated people. She despised conversations that lasted over two minutes. She felt a strong dislike towards Hope from the first moment that they met. But something was shifting inside of her. Hope was kind and willing, even when Faith resented her and tried to push her away. She was the first person to actually listen to Faith. To give her a chance. And for some odd reason, Faith longed for that.

"Well, I better get going," Hope said, coming to a stop. "My mother will want help with dinner."
"You help your mom with dinner?"
"Yes," Hope said. "Every night."
"Wow. That's commitment."
"It's just what families do."
"Your family, maybe. Not mine."
"Do you guys have a lot of issues?"
"Issues is an understatement."
"Well, I'm sorry for that."
"You don't have to apologize. It's not your fault."
"I know. I'm still sorry."
"Thanks."
It was quiet for a moment, neither of them knowing what to say.
"Well," Faith finally spoke. "Thanks for showing me around today. I actually sort of maybe enjoyed it."
Hope laughed. "Now, was that so hard to admit?"
"Yes."
"Well you haven't seen it all yet. I'll have to take you around again, give you the grand tour of Meadow."
"Maybe," Faith said.
"I'll take that as a yes."
Faith laughed. "Goodbye Hope..." she paused. "I don't know your last name. What's your last name?"
"Chamberlain. Hope Chamberlain."
"As in Minister Chamberlain?"
"Yes."
"You're the minister's daughter?"
"That would be me," Hope smiled.
Faith gaped at her. "Well then," she said, trying to recover from her shock. "That explains a lot."
"Is that a good or bad thing?"
Faith stared at her. "I'm still trying to decide."