A sweet melody for a lie

Rosemary's POV

I'd like to think I know how I'd feel walking through the first place I ever called home, my childhood home. I'd like to think I can imagine it, at the very least. Although, it's probably just a desperate attempt at relating to Izzy. 

I can't see her face as I follow in her steps, but I see how her head keeps on turning from left to right at times, and then from top to bottom at others as she inspects her childhood home and what the years have done to it. 

The one thing I've always appreciated about this place is the great size of the windows that allow both daylight and nightlight in indiscriminately. 

The very thin layer of snow doesn't cover much outside. I can still see the vibrant green of fresh grass peeking from underneath.