Morning unfolded over the Lutheral mansion like a quiet promise.
Golden sunlight streamed through tall glass windows, painting the marble floors in soft warmth. Servants moved about with careful precision, their footsteps hushed, their voices low, as though the house itself demanded a certain dignity.
At the center of it all stood Mrs. Lutheral.
Composed.
Graceful.
Unshaken.
She examined the fruit basket laid before her, adjusting a cluster of grapes slightly before nodding in approval. Everything had to be perfect. Not extravagant, not excessive… just enough to convey goodwill.
Today, she would visit the Gabriel family.
Their daughter had returned.
A girl who had once vanished like smoke into the wind… now back as though fate had rewritten her story.
But not all stories deserved a happy ending.
"I'm not going."
The voice came from behind her.
Sharp.
Cold.
Mrs. Lutheral did not turn immediately. Instead, she gently placed her hands together, as if steadying herself before facing something inevitable.
"Zima…"
"I said I'm not going." Zima stepped forward, her expression tight, her eyes burning with something deeper than anger. "Why should I?"
Mrs. Lutheral turned now.
Their gazes met.
And in that moment, the air between them grew heavy.
"Why should I go there," Zima continued, her voice rising slightly, "smile, greet them, and pretend everything is fine? Why should I bring gifts to someone who…"
Her voice broke.
She stopped.
But the pain didn't.
It spilled out anyway, raw and jagged.
"She took my child away from me."
Silence fell.
Not the peaceful kind.
The kind that presses against your chest until breathing feels like effort.
Mrs. Lutheral's expression softened.
Not with pity.
But with understanding.
"I know," she said quietly.
Zima let out a bitter laugh.
"No, Mom… you don't." Her hands clenched at her sides. "You didn't feel it. You didn't lose something that was growing inside you… something you were already dreaming about…"
Her voice trembled now, dangerously close to shattering.
"I did."
Mrs. Lutheral took a step closer.
Her voice, when she spoke again, was gentle—but firm.
"Pain is real, Zima. I will never deny that."
A pause.
"But pain is not meant to be your home."
Zima froze.
"What's done cannot be undone," Mrs. Lutheral continued. "We cannot rewrite yesterday, no matter how much we wish to. But we can choose what we become tomorrow."
Zima's eyes filled with tears, though none fell.
"And what if tomorrow is just another lie?" she whispered. "What if Regina planned everything? What if she paid people… staged the hospital… faked the fire?"
Mrs. Lutheral shook her head slowly.
"Life is rarely that simple. It is not just truth or lies, right or wrong. There are things we don't see. Things we don't understand."
She reached out, placing a hand lightly on Zima's arm.
"For now… let us choose peace."
The word lingered.
Fragile.
Uncertain.
Zima closed her eyes briefly.
Then exhaled.
"…Fine."
Hidden behind a half-closed door, someone had been listening.
Meri.
Her small fingers clutched the edge of the wall as her heart beat wildly in her chest.
They're going…
To her mother.
To the one person she had been longing for with every silent cry trapped in her throat.
Excitement surged through her like lightning.
She didn't think about consequences.
Didn't think about danger.
Only one thought echoed inside her—
Mommy.
And that was enough.
The car ride felt endless.
But Meri did not see the road.
Did not see the sky.
Did not feel time.
Because she was locked inside the darkness of the car boot.
Curled into herself.
Surrounded by dust and silence.
Every bump in the road made her flinch.
Every sound felt louder than it should.
Her breathing came in small, careful bursts, as though she feared the car itself might hear her.
She was scared.
Terribly scared.
But stronger than fear… was longing.
She pressed her small hand against her chest.
I'm coming, Mommy.
When the car finally stopped, the world outside came rushing back.
Voices.
Footsteps.
Doors opening.
Then closing.
Silence.
Meri waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then she pushed the boot open slightly.
Light flooded in.
Blinding.
Overwhelming.
She blinked rapidly before slowly climbing out.
And there it was…
The Gabriel estate.
Grand.
Massive.
Almost intimidating in its elegance.
But Meri didn't admire it.
She didn't care.
Because somewhere inside…
Her mother was waiting.
Her feet had barely touched the ground when she heard it.
A low growl.
She froze.
Slowly… carefully… she turned.
And saw it.
A large dog.
Watching her.
Its body tense.
Its eyes sharp.
Her heart skipped.
Then raced.
A scream rose up her throat—
—but she forced it down, slapping her hand over her mouth.
Tears filled her eyes instantly.
Her entire body trembled.
She looked around desperately, her gaze landing on a thin stick lying nearby.
With shaking hands, she grabbed it.
And waved it.
Clumsy.
Weak.
But determined.
"G-go away…"
The dog hesitated.
Then, as if losing interest, it turned and walked off.
Meri didn't wait to understand why.
She ran.
Inside the mansion, everything felt too big.
Too quiet.
Too unfamiliar.
Her footsteps echoed faintly as she moved from room to room.
"Mommy…" she whispered.
No answer.
Just silence.
Room after room.
Hope slowly turning into panic.
Until,
Voices.
"…She's staying in the boys' quarters."
"…After everything she did, can you imagine?"
Meri's head snapped toward the direction they had gestured.
Outside.
Behind the main house.
A smaller building.
Her heart leaped.
And she ran again.
The boys' quarters were nothing like the mansion.
Simpler.
Quieter.
Lonelier.
And inside one of those rooms…
She found her.
Regina.
Lying still on the bed.
Unmoving.
Unaware.
Meri stopped in her tracks.
Her world… paused.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She opened her mouth…
"Mom—"
Nothing came out.
No sound.
Only silence.
Tears fell instead.
Soft.
Endless.
She walked forward slowly, as if afraid that if she moved too quickly, her mother might disappear again.
Then she reached out.
And held her hand.
Cold.
Too cold.
Meri pressed it against her cheek, her shoulders shaking.
I'm here…
Mommy… I'm here…
She stayed like that.
Not moving.
Not speaking.
Just holding on.
As if letting go meant losing her all over again.
And slowly…
Exhaustion claimed her.
A sound.
Soft.
Wrong.
Meri's eyes snapped open.
Footsteps.
Someone was inside.
Her heart pounded violently.
She slipped down and hid, her small body pressing into the shadows.
All she could see were shoes.
A blue dress.
Then a voice.
Cold.
Cruel.
"You really don't know when to die, do you?"
Meri's breath caught.
"I thought the hospital would finish you." The woman's voice dripped with hatred. "Or the fire."
A pause.
Sharp.
"You survived once."
Another step closer.
"But this time…"
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"I'll make sure you don't."
Meri's body shook uncontrollably.
Fear wrapped around her like iron chains.
Just then—
A noise outside.
The woman cursed under her breath.
And left.
Silence returned.
But it wasn't safe.
Meri stepped out slowly, her legs weak.
She looked at her mother.
Then at the door.
Then back again.
A decision formed in her small, frightened heart.
She walked to the wardrobe.
Opened it.
Climbed inside.
Curled up in the darkness.
Her body trembling.
But her eyes…
Determined.
I won't leave you.
I'll protect you.
Even if she was small.
Even if she was afraid.
Even if danger lurked just outside the door.
And in the main house…
Smiles were still being exchanged.
Polite words still spoken.
But unseen by all…