"Come on, Juli, aren't you going to come on up?" A sweet, smooth tone called down the ladder to the attic. Sitting upon the opening of the attic, was a young woman, just barely older than the other girl on the floor.
"Oh please, don't make me Holly." The younger pouted, the slight accent she had seeming more prominent than her sister's. "You know how much I hate it up there. And besides, I have places to go." Juliette responded, glancing between her sister and the door. The older of the two let out a gentle, prolonged sigh before nodding a bit.
"Alright, go ahead. I just wish you would spend more time with me. Go have fun." She muttered, followed by a couple of strings of unintelligible French right after. Juliette rolled her eyes some, grabbing her coat as she headed over to the front door.
"Don't be like that, lighten up a little bit," Juliette called out before shutting the door, going on her way. With her gone, Hollan pushed back further into the attic, standing up when she had more headroom. Quietly she roamed the attic, grey eyes scanning over the boxes. Occasionally she would open one to find what was inside, but wasn't finding much. As she began to give up finding whatever it was that she had gone to look for, her foot hit a box, taped shut. With an odd look, she tipped it over to read what it said. But there was nothing on it.
"Odd… papa never forgets to label boxes…" She muttered, picking up the medium-sized box. It wasn't too heavy, and curiosity was getting the better of her. So with the box in hand, she started to descend down the stairs with it.
Heading into the kitchen, she set the box on one of the counters, grabbing a knife to cut open the box. With little effort, she got it open and headed into the living space to look through the contents of the box. After settling herself on the floor, she started rifling through it. But nothing looked familiar to her. It didn't seem like anything that belonged to her father or brother, but whoever it belonged to was clearly a man. Or she assumed at least. Pulling out a small stack of photos, she saw multiple pictures of a boy that couldn't be much older than she was. He looked nothing like any of her family members, so she ruled out the possibility it belonged to an uncle or grandfather of hers. So who could it possibly belong to?
After taking time to consider calling her parents and asking about it, she decided against it. They'd probably be annoyed she had gone up in the attic again, getting into things that didn't belong to her. But she couldn't help being a curious soul.
With it decided she wouldn't call her parents, she quietly started to put the things back in, hesitating as she reached out for the stack of photos.
"Wouldn't hurt to keep one, would it?" She muttered to herself, pulling out her favorite of the stack. Setting the rest in the box, she carefully set it aside to put away later. For now, she would keep it down— in case she might need it while she investigated. Whoever this secret boy was, she was determined to figure him out. Even if it took her the rest of the day. Or longer.