Novel & Cerita The Family Upstairs Characters

“Who’s the kid upstairs?” Hakeem’s eyes flickered to the second floor, and as they returned to my face a genuine grin tugged at his lips. “That’s my younger brother.” With that, Hakeem vanished down the main corridor with his mother. I wasn’t alone for long, though. Seconds after the two of them vanished, a new voice sounded. Only this one came from upstairs. “Malik, if you don’t get those creepy insects of yours out of the hallway I’m going to tell mother!”

"If you can't win over her, then there's no use arguing. Everything will be decided by Grandpa. What's the use of arguing with her?" In other words, Nicole had no say in anything as well. At that moment, Karen could finally speak again. "That's right, we'll see what Grandpa has to say later." At that moment, the butler had just appeared and addressed the crowd. "The master has woken up. He's in a better state now. All of you may come upstairs." It was only then that the four Riddle brothers brought their families upstairs. In that huge room, Mr. Riddle Sr. was lying in bed while looking weak.

As the elevator doors slid open on the upper level and Ruby was rolled down the long, carpeted corridor toward her bedroom, a sound floated up from the grand foyer. It was laughter. Bright, musical, and entirely unburdened. Ruby caught the distinct, melodic chime of Vivian’s giggle, followed by the low, rumbling chuckle of her father, and the soft, approving hum of her mother. They were sharing a joke. They were enjoying a pleasant, intimate post-dinner family evening. The contrast was stark, downstairs, a vibrant tapestry of familial joy and upstairs, a cold, dark tomb reserved for the daughter who no longer fit their perfect narrative.

"When have I ever bullied anyone? You're all being unfair!" Her tone cracked as she pointed accusingly. "It's you! All of you! You, Mom, and Diana! You're just using her as a replacement for Vee, aren't you? Even my room is on the third floor! Why does she get to live on the second the moment she arrives?" The Hutton estate had been rebuilt once. Since then, only the elders and the room that had belonged to the missing fifth child remained on the second floor. Though many rooms were empty, Florence valued peace and quiet, so all her children, even Diana, had been placed upstairs on the third floor.

I followed her up a wide staircase. The hallway upstairs was lined with framed family photos—smiling faces, vacations, birthdays. I looked for my father in them. He was there—older, gray at the temples, smiling with people I didn’t know. It hurt more than I expected. Gina opened a door at the end of the hall. The room was beautiful. Soft gray walls. A big bed with white linens. A window overlooking the garden. A desk. A closet already half-filled with new clothes—tags still on.

She hadn’t expected them to actually remember her favorite dish. Then again… did Grace remember what she liked? Julian chimed in at the perfect moment. “Mom, Dad, I’ll take Tessa upstairs first. We’ll come down when dinner’s ready.” “Sure, sure. Go on up.” Julian’s hand stayed around Tessa’s waist as they ascended the stairs. Halfway up, he tilted his head and gave his parents a meaningful look. They understood instantly. Only after the two had completely disappeared did the elders of the Hayes family finally exhale.

The two family’s had always been close. Bailey Everleigh never thought too much about it until the summer that everything changed. She had been raised with her own family, and theirs was always nearby as well. They did almost everything together. She had always thought it was because both were large families. They understood the way things were done in them that people who didn’t have eight-plus kids could never.

the old lady said, eager to listen to the words. “Your house is beautiful, mummo.” Margarita glanced at Samson and agreed those name things come from his mom. The way he used to force her to call his name was no different for his mummo. They settled on the couch, and she looked around when they heard a stomping noise from upstairs. “Is somebody upstairs?” Samson questioned. “Yes, I have two paying guests staying upstairs,” Mummo mentioned, and there they saw a girl dashing down the stairs. Their eyes landed, but the girl’s eyes scanned the room and rested on Samson.

I had asked Fiona, once, where they went, but she had dismissed the question off-hand, telling me there was nothing up there but a whole bunch of junk in storage. I consider this for a second, mulling over her words. What kind of storage, though? Especially if all of the family heirlooms and photo books were kept downstairs in that little room in the basement…what the hell did they keep upstairs? Suddenly curious, and feeling bold – and frankly, bored – I look around for any evidence of prying eyes and then tiptoe forward, heading up the steps without a sound. Surprisingly, there isn’t even a landing at the top. Instead, there’s just an ugly brown plywood door, its shabby material clearly at