She linked her arms behind her back and tiptoed down the hallway. Her family was all asleep.
Her mouth was drawn up at the corners and her eyes twinkled, even in the dark.

What could she be up to? thought no one.

She turned the corner into the kitchen. Her hair swinging around her shoulders.
A hum escaped her lips, the melody unidentifiable.
With a long arm she reached up and opened a cupboard, her other arm following suit to retrieve a glass.
Hopping quickly over to the sink, the long arms came into play again, switching the faucet on and filling her cup.

Thirsty, at this time of night? asked no one.

Her smile grew wider. She straightened out, having been bent over the sink.
Those long arms grew stiff.
She spoke,

"What are you doing in my house?" Her voice was deep and clear, like a river.

There was silence throughout the house.

She turned quickly, the water in her glass sloshing over onto her fingers.

There was no one there.
Her face became sad, the mischevious glint lost.

What are you doing in my house? wondered no one.

"Nothing." She said.
And went back to bed.