Chapter Twelve - Ollie

Ollie

Outside, the wind was howling with a spring blizzard. The single-pane glass windows in the old farmhouse were showing their age, rattling to the cadence of the blizzard and sending icy air into the room. Oliver laid under the covers of his bed, wrapping himself like a burrito to stay warm. The furnace was on, but hardly did anything to take the edge off of the cold. The wind just sucked any heat right out of the house. It wasn't just the wind, though, that made the house feel cold.

This place is just too empty, he thought. It needs some plants or pictures on the wall or something to make it feel like an actual home.