Another day passed. This should be like my fourth day since I woke up in this house, but today felt different.
I had bathed, changed into one of the soft dresses they left in the wardrobe, and sat by the window for a long time. My eyes watched the trees sway. A soft breeze moved the curtains beside me, and the smell of flowers from outside filled the room.
I still didn't know what to believe. I still didn't understand why I was here. But for the first time, I felt just a little less afraid.
Then came the knock.
It was soft. Not urgent. Not loud. Just gentle.
"Hello?" A woman's voice.
I stayed quiet at first, unsure.
"It's Fiona… Callum's sister," she said, kindly. "Can I come in?"
I hesitated… then walked slowly to the door and opened it.
The woman standing in front of me looked like someone out of a dream. She was tall and slender, wearing a peach-colored gown that floated like air around her body. Her hair was pulled into a neat bun, and her skin glowed like soft honey. She smiled at me, and in that moment, I felt something warm bloom in my chest.
She looked like a fairy. The peaceful kind from children's books. And she sounded like one too.
"Hi," she said again, this time with a smaller, gentler smile. "I just wanted to check in on you. May I sit?"
I nodded slowly and stepped aside.
She walked in and sat on the couch by the far end of the room, crossing her legs neatly. I sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to say.
"You don't have to talk," she said quickly, as if reading my thoughts. "We can just sit here. Or I can talk, and you can listen."
I blinked, surprised by her calmness. She didn't make me feel like I was being watched or studied.
And then she began to speak.
She talked about the weather. About how quiet the estate had been lately. About the flowers that were finally blooming in the garden. About the housekeeper who couldn't cook jollof rice properly but insisted on trying every Sunday.
I found myself smiling.
A small one. But it was real.
She kept talking, and her voice made me feel like I was wrapped in a soft blanket. Warm. Calm. Safe.
She didn't ask me where I was from.
She didn't ask me what happened to me.
She didn't ask about my silence.
She just… talked. And listened.
"I'm really sorry for whatever brought you here," she said softly after a while, folding her hands on her lap. "Callum didn't explain much. He just said you needed help. That you were alone."
I looked down at my fingers, twisting them nervously.
"He's not the type to get involved in people's lives," she added. "Especially not strangers. Since Audrey died, he hasn't really opened up to anyone."
I raised my head slightly. That was the first time anyone mentioned something personal about him.
"He's still healing," she continued. "But he saw you and… I think it reminded him of something. Or maybe someone."
I didn't respond, but I listened closely.
"I just want you to know," Fiona said, leaning forward a bit, "there's no pressure. No strings. You don't owe us anything. If you're not comfortable around Callum, that's okay."
I looked at her closely now. Her eyes were kind. Real.
"I can come spend time with you," she offered with a warm smile. "Just us girls. And maybe, when you're ready, I'll take you around the estate. It's peaceful here. Might help you breathe better."
I didn't know when my mouth opened.
"I'd like that," I whispered.
Fiona's eyes lit up with joy. "You spoke!"
I nodded shyly, a little smile tugging at my lips.
She didn't make a big deal of it. She didn't press further.
Instead, she went back to talking like we'd been friends for years. She talked about how she used to come here during holidays with Callum and Audrey. How they used to throw parties on the back lawn and roast marshmallows by the fire. How life used to feel normal before everything changed.
I listened to her, really listened.
Something about her voice gave me peace. I had spoken more words with her in twenty minutes than I had with anyone since I woke up here.
She made me feel like a person again.
Not a broken thing.
Not a problem.
Not a prisoner.
After about an hour, she stood up to leave.
"I'll come by again tomorrow," she said. "And I'll bring fresh air and gist with me."
I laughed—softly, but freely.
She smiled widely at that. "See? I knew there was a sweet girl hiding in there."
As she walked to the door, she turned and said, "Callum isn't scary, you know. Just sad. And quiet. But he means well."
I nodded.
She didn't push more than that. She just waved and stepped out.
When the door clicked shut, I walked to the window again.
The same trees swayed in the breeze.
But for some reason, they looked less heavy.