"Woah."

There was a whole junkyard here.

"S-Sven?" I called, my voice echoing.

It was damp up here. There was no light as I stared around, my head the only part of my body inside the attic. Carefully, I climbed in and almost immediately, my foot bumped against something solid.

"S-Sven!" I called again.

I got no answer, but all of a sudden, sunlight flooded the attic. I looked around in amazement. There were all sorts of things here. Tables, chairs, broken beds, buckets, hanging lights, glass ornaments, photos, frames- everything.

As I walked towards the light, I saw Sven's shadow cast up along the wall to my right. He was sweeping the wooden floor, his back to me. Silently, so as not to disturb him, I turned away and approached the large window which allowed in all the light.

I felt my mouth gape as my eyes scanned every detail of the large, arch-shaped window with an intricate design. It was most beautiful. The light that entered drew rainbows on the floor. Smiling, I walked over the scattered light and enjoyed the warmth in the little corner by the window. Near the window was a lone ottoman which seemed a little dusty, so I patted it with my hand and sat down.

I looked around and saw a large bookshelf behind me, filled with books of all colored covers. Novel reading was never my forte, so I cared not about them, but all the same they did give this little corner in the attic a magical feel.

Sven kept sweeping and didn't talk to me once as he did so. Silently, I studied him and wondered why he worked so hard. One conclusion I had come to after a whole week of observation, was that Sven and Mama weren't related. They just never shared that little intimacy.

Sven barely talked and Mama never prodded at him to do so.

"Sven." The name escaped my lips before I knew it. Jerkily, he paused and turned to look at me. I gritted my teeth and mentally chastised myself for talking without thinking.

Well, what's done is done.

"What's your relationship with Mama Ruth?" I asked nonchalantly as I looked around the room.

He grunted. "Guardian."

"What?"

"She's my guardian."

I nodded, embarrassed. "Oh, okay. That's nice."

With yet another grumble, he went back to work, the rhythmic noise of the broom sweeping against the floor filling the room.

I sighed as I thought of ways to diffuse the tension. I think it's been too long that Sven's been avoiding talk and the monosyllable answers weren't doing it for me. I exhaled and started:

"How old are you, Sven?"

This time he didn't stop sweeping.

"S-"

"19."

My shoulders slumped. "Oh, okay. Would you mind if I asked what happened to your real parents?"

He shrugged, but I saw his mouth twitch. "Dunno. Never met them."

I wanted to ask more. He was such a mysterious guy, and his expressions gave away nothing. And the more I looked at him, the more he reminded me of someone. But who…?

"You remind me of someone," I muttered as I studied him, the same thought going on in my mind.

He paused and looked at me again, bewilderment written all over his face. "What?"

I sat back, my eyes wide. Good God… had I said that out loud? How reckless of me.

"What?" he asked again. "Who do I remind you of?"

I was shocked that he had taken the initiative to say such a long, stringed sentence that it took me a minute or two to recover.

"Who do you remind me of?" I whispered. "Huh…."

He was looking at me with wide eyes, his mouth slightly open. As the sun's angle shifted, the rainbow light casted on him and drowsed his face in colors. At that moment, he looked beautiful.

He looked like an angel and I was completely in awe.

And then I saw a flicker of worry on his face, an all too familiar expression. The way his eyebrows furrowed and the way his mouth opened was very, very familiar.

Just who…?

"Emery," I whispered as I finally got it.

"What?"

"You look like Emery, a friend I once knew," I said sadly, and the closer I looked at Sven, the more he looked like her. How could I not have seen it sooner?

Sven leaned closer and let the broom flop to the floor. "Describe her." His voice was low and husky as he stared into my emerald eyes.

I was surprised at Sven's change in demeanor. It was the first time he was willing to talk to me so much and the way he was inching forward...there was certainly something here that I wasn't understanding.

"Erm..." I tried to picture Emery's face. "S-She had beautiful brown eyes... and she was usually in a maids' uniform. Her hair... it was the most unusual. It was exactly like yours, silvery with wisps of white. She was beautiful in a way of its own."

Sven interrupted me. "That sounds exactly like her. Can it be her...?" he muttered.

"What?" I asked uncertainly.

"I think that's her," he repeated, his voice getting louder. "That's sounds like my sister!"

My mouth went dry. "She is…?" I croaked.

His eyes were the happiest I had ever seen. He was pacing the floor and his eyes were darting from object to object, and then they finally landed on my face.

"What was her name again?"

I felt like I was going to hurl. I felt queasy as I sat there and looked upon the happy man that may have just found his long lost sister. "Emery. Emery Tudnor."

He raked a hand through his shaggy mane. "And you say she works at the palace? That's so great! I can't believe I finally heard of her. You have no idea how long I've been anticipating this moment!"

Should I tell him? I thought. Should I break his heart by the awful news?

"How did you get separated from her in the first place?" I asked. I was just looking for ways to delay the news. I didn't know how to convey it to him.

Sven stopped pacing as he thought. "Our parents gave both of us up the moment we were born. We are twins, you see, and our parents didn't want to do anything with a pair of silver-haired kids, apparently. They found us... bizarre, for we neither looked like either of our parents. They gave us up to this man called West Hughes."

"They did?" I asked as I patted my stomach to ease the void. I was sweating uneasily.

He nodded. "I got bought by this freaky man who wanted to work me to death. He enjoyed beating children when he was enraged and I got hit a lot. My sister was left behind with West and I never heard anything more from her. I still had no idea what had become of her, but now I do. She's a maid at the palace, right?"

I nodded and he smiled.

"That's good for her. At least she didn't need to bear all the pain I had to, all my life."

I nodded again and averted my gaze. How would Sven react when I finally tell him what happened to his sister?

"I can't wait to meet her," Sven muttered happily as he picked his broom up again. "Em...Er..Emery. Emery, yeah, that's right!"

I gulped. "I'm sorry, Sven," I cried as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "But I don't think you can meet your sister."

He had resumed sweeping once again. But the noise stopped all of a sudden.

"What?" I heard him ask. "Why not?"

I didn't want to see his face and that was the exact reason I was staring at the floor. Slowly, I looked up at him and I saw his expression change as he noticed the tears flowing down my face and onto my black dress which had become slightly grey by now.

I took a huge, unstable breath. Here it goes…

"S-She died."

For a while, there was absolutely no movement in the room. Then I heard the broom fall against the floor, the thud following it echoed loudly inside the attic.

I sniffed. He didn't say anything.

With that, I heard his footsteps fade away as he walked away from the light, away from me. The windows that led down the attic creaked as Sven stepped down. He must've missed a step because I heard a 'thud' and a distant curse word that followed.

He went and shut the door to his room, locking himself in.

I held my head as I sighed, suppressing my tears. I noticed that the light had faded away. It was dusk now, and instead, it had been replaced by a soft, purple glow.

It had to be said. Sooner or later, Sven would've found out that his sister that he so longed to meet, was dead. Had it been wrong of me to ruin his happiness so soon?

"Argh..." I grumbled as I rubbed my eyes. I felt so bad.

I felt so, so, so, so, so, so bad.

As I stood up and dusted my behind, I wondered if Sven was crying in his room.

Sadly, I picked up the broom off the floor along with all the other cleaning supplies and trotted downstairs after I had thrown the things by the banister.

I was too short to reach the ceiling so I let the ladder hang out and I went and shut myself in my room as well.

Cleaning the attic could wait for another day, I suppose.