After my father .passed away we came back to look at the property. John’s first thought was how we could tear the place apart and make it a sort of hostel for our followers. He paid no regard to the fact that this was where I grew up. Even though these walls saw more bad than good, it was my home. He let me keep two rooms to myself. My father’s study and my old bedroom, the later which I have kept locked and refuse to enter. It sits there like a time capsule, the same mess of clothes and sheets and empty ziplock bags.