The night had already grown deep by the time the house finally became quiet.
Ayla slept without moving, buried beneath the soft blanket that smelled faintly of fresh detergent and new cotton. The long days before the move, the endless packing, the anxious anticipation, and the twenty hour journey had drained her completely. Even the emotional weight of stepping into a new life had exhausted her in ways she had not realized.
She slept like someone who had finally reached the end of a long road.
Silas moved through the room while she slept.
It was not that he tried particularly hard to be silent. The wardrobe doors opened and closed with soft clicks. A hanger touched another with a faint metallic sound. A suitcase zipper slid open through the quiet air.
Yet none of it woke her.
She remained curled beneath the blanket, breathing slowly and steadily, unaware that someone moved through the same space she slept in.
