The doorbell ringing was a surprise for all of the family, except for Owain. Who didn’t hear it. It was his Dad who answered the ringing speaker, watching the screen as it showed the girl ringing the apartment number, tan with dark hair, a fringe, and grey eyes, dressed like she’d been hired to play a vagrant in a musical, though maybe that was just the flatcap, a colourful metal band around her right arm. Mr. McCrawley knew she looked somewhat familiar, but not enough to be
Amy sat cross-legged in the middle of her new room, staring into oblivion as she realised that the last hundred years of her life were real, and was coming to the conclusion that a century is rather a long time to only have grown one year.
