The Everett household had changed.
It was quieter now—not in a heavy, suffocating way, but in the kind of silence that came when everyone was holding their breath, careful not to break something fragile. Morning sunlight spilled into the wide hallways, brushing across polished wood and tall windows, but its warmth was muted, as if even the sun understood the house carried wounds that light alone couldn't heal.
And then—she appeared.
Aira stood in the doorway of her room, one pale hand wrapped around the knob, her slender frame trembling as though even standing cost her strength. Her sweater hung loosely on her fragile body, leggings soft against bare feet. Her eyes were unreadable, face blank like a porcelain doll, but her will carried her forward.
One step.Then another.Her quiet rebellion against everything that had broken her.
No one gasped. No one swarmed her with questions. They had learned already—sometimes silence was the only language she could bear.
Valentina was the first to notice. Her voice was soft, almost like she was afraid of scaring Aira back into her shell."Good morning. You… feel like having tea today?"
Aira's lips didn't part for words. She only gave the smallest nod and crossed to the window, sitting near the light but not in it, close enough to them but still apart.
That was enough.
Zane leaned in the hallway behind her, shoulder pressed against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes never left her. She looked so fragile, so hollow—but her presence outside that room was a victory. He didn't speak, didn't move, just stood there like her shadow. Guarding her in silence.
That Afternoon the house was quiet. Aira wandered its corridors slowly, fingertips tracing over the smooth walls as if grounding herself with touch. Every corner was unfamiliar, but safer than the places she had come from.
And then she froze.
At the end of the hallway stood a tall glass vase, decorative and fragile, gleaming in the sunlight.
Her breath hitched. Her body locked.
It was the same. The same color. The same shape. The same shine. Just like the one Sana had hurled at her, shattering against her back, shards biting into skin while cruel laughter echoed.
Her chest tightened. She couldn't breathe. Her hands shook violently, her pulse hammering in her throat.
And then—quiet footsteps.
Ivy appeared, holding a book. She noticed instantly, her gaze flicking between Aira and the vase. She didn't ask. She didn't hesitate. She simply walked to it, lifted it into her arms, and carried it away.
As if it had never existed.
Aira blinked, her trembling subsiding little by little. Her wide eyes followed Ivy's fading figure. No words passed between them. But her heart whispered what her lips couldn't: Thank you.
In Evening the fire crackled softly in the living room, shadows dancing across the walls. Aira sat curled up at the edge of the couch, knees drawn close, staring into the flames as though trying to burn her memories away.
Mrs. Everett approached quietly, carrying a shawl. She draped it over Aira's shoulders with motherly gentleness."The nights are still cold here. Let this keep you warm. You don't need to speak, love. Just… don't isolate yourself, alright?"
Mr. Everett glanced over his newspaper, his deep voice calm but firm."You don't owe anyone your story. Not your scars. Not your smiles. Just being here with us—that's enough."
Aira's hands gripped the shawl tightly, as though afraid it might vanish.
Later, the family gathered in the living room. The fire glowed. The air was warm. Soft chatter filled the room—Kai's ridiculous jokes, Ivy's quiet book talk, Valentina's laughter.
Aira stepped in slowly, gaze sweeping the room.
She didn't sit with them. Just near them. Close enough to listen. Close enough to belong.
And then… her voice.
Small. Shaky. Almost too quiet to be real.
"Thank you… for not asking."
The room stilled.
Valentina's eyes softened as she reached out a hand. "We're just glad you're here."
Kai smiled faintly. "And we're not in a hurry. You talk when you want to. Or not at all."
Mrs. Everett leaned forward, warmth glowing in her eyes. "You don't need to rush healing, my girl. You've already survived enough. Just let us be here with you."
Mr. Everett gave a rare smile. "Some people ask too many questions. We prefer tea, books, and peace."
Aira's gaze lowered. She nodded faintly, the motion barely visible. But inside—something stirred. Something new.
That midnight time.
Her dreams returned, cruel and merciless.
Aira tossed beneath her blankets, soft gasps and whimpers slipping out as old screams clawed at her. The cold laughter, the blows, the endless fear—it all came alive again in the dark.
Outside her door, footsteps stopped.
Zane.
He didn't knock. Didn't enter.
He just slid down against the wall, back resting on it, knees bent. His head leaned back, jaw tight. And then… he stayed. All night.
When dawn touched the curtains, Aira opened her door, hair messy, eyes swollen from another night of battles.
And there he was.
Asleep on the floor. Jacket still on. Head tilted to the side, exhaustion painting his face.
Her throat tightened.
Quietly, she slipped back into her room, grabbed a folded blanket, and returned. She draped it gently over his lap. Her fingers lingered for a second. Then she walked away, leaving him in the quiet warmth of her unspoken gratitude.
Later that night.
Alone in her room, she sat by the window, gazing up at the stars.
They blinked faintly, far but gentle, as though the universe itself was watching.
Her voice cracked in a whisper."No one asked. No one demanded. They simply… stayed."
She pressed her hand against her chest, closing her eyes.
They didn't run away. Even after the scars. Even after the silence.
And for the first time, a fragile hope bloomed inside her.
Maybe… one day… I'll be able to speak.
______________
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