"Even when we were little" she whispered loudly.
"He gave you love letters, are you serious" Still even though we were whispering I felt like our voices were echoing though the large,out stretched room with a ceiling reaching so high It gives you height frights from just looking up.
"Ssh" I whispered to her.I feared our voices would have awaken my uncle up.The thought of them wake up and have them explain that we weren't in New York irked me.They weren't wrong but constantly having to be conscious of your every move gets tiring.
"I thought I heard something" I peeked in two there room.You'd think living in such amazingly huge home they'd have all four kids sleep in a separate room but no all four kids seemed comfortably cuddled around their mother and my uncle seemed relaxed on the bed across from them.To me this looked normal for the living situations weren't any different in my home but one of my friends back home it would have looked so odd the thought of sleeping in the same room as their parent let alone on the same bed.Like this so many other aspect of my this culture and religion I am attached to were strange but logical.
Closing the old wooden doors I turned around "nope there asleep" I tiptoed back to the sofa and snuggled back into my seat "OK,now you can go on"
