In a glance, Prudence's bed looked identical to Annie's. The pillows were too soft, as if no human had touched them for a long time. Not a single handprint could be seen on the fabric of the blankets and bed sheet.
I sat on Annie's bed, pondering if I should recall some history on the place until I decided that would be boring. So I looked at every side of the small unit and uttered, “Prudence?” The dull stillness continued dominating the room. Only the jar of little red fruits on the study table attempted to disrupt the boring energy.