The sun hovered high above the Everhart estate, casting golden rays upon the garden. Petals swayed in the breeze, but a certain heaviness lingered beneath the beauty—a silence that carried unspoken truths.
Amelia sat beside her mother on the swing, neither of them speaking for a time. The quiet was no longer uncomfortable. It was needed.
But eventually, her mother gently rose.
"I should prepare something for your father. He hasn't eaten all day," she murmured, brushing off her skirt.
Amelia stood as well, offering to help, but her mother waved her off with a kind smile.
"No, child. You rest. This place has missed you. Walk around. Let it greet you again."
Amelia nodded, watching her mother disappear into the corridor leading toward the kitchens.
Left alone, she took a slow breath and turned back toward the estate—toward her memories.
She wandered through the halls, every turn familiar. Her hand grazed the walls.
