After dinner, when the sky pulled the blanket of darkness with stars on it, Anastasia was back in her room doing what she loved the most.
She carefully used the small piece of charcoal to complete last night's sketch. Once she was done, a smile spread on her lips.
"It feels like home."
During her lonely days, Anastasia liked to stare at the sketches she had made that belonged to the place she came from. Seeing them, her dream to reuniting with her parents didn't seem that far away. She folded the mattress and took out the other sketches to look at them.
Outside Anastasia's room, one of the maids was heading to bed late when she noticed light spilling from under the room's door. Wondering what Anastasia was doing up so late, leaving the lamp burning for so long, the maid carefully turned the doorknob. Ready to ask, her lips parted along with the door before she stopped herself on seeing the sketches in Anastasia's hands.
'What are all these?' The maid questioned herself.
