"What are you doing here?"
A voice asked, startling Emma as she tried to unwrap the roll of thick white paper.
Out of shock at being caught, she dropped the painting on the floor, as she stood up erect.
"Turn, let me see you!" The voice said, its tone rising up a bit.
Emma swallowed her spittle, her heart beat increasing a bit, as she slowly turned around, preparing herself for whatever might happen.
Her eyes widened in fear, as she beheld an older woman, who she was sure was Clem's and Claire's mother. She had their blonde hair and eyes, but her own eyes, her own eyes were cold and calculative.
Emma knew she had just fallen into a deep cauldron of hot boiling oil.
"Who are you? How did you come here? Where are you from?" The older woman asked, turning up her lips in disgust, as she trailed her eyes from the hair on Emma's head, to the sole of her feet.
"I..." Emma stuttered, opening and closing her mouth intermittently.
