Morning had broken.
The storm had passed, leaving behind a sky washed clean by the rain. The city stirred awake under the soft glow of dawn.
Raindrops no longer lashed the windows; instead, sunlight spilled through the curtains like golden threads, warming the quiet house.
On the sofa, Yim's eyelids fluttered open.
Her head throbbed painfully, as though her skull had been split by the echoes of last night.
But what met her eyes was…
Order.
Calm.
The house looked immaculate.....every object in its place, as if the chaos she remembered had never happened.
On the table before her rested a steaming cup of coffee, a plate of food neatly arranged beside it… and something else.
A single white flower.
Freshly plucked.
Its petals still kissed by dew.
For a fleeting moment, a soft smile curved Yim's lips....
Only to vanish as quickly as it came.
Because the memories crashed back in.
The screams.
The firelight of flickering candles.
The sound of glass shattering and objects hitting the floor.
And....
That voice.
That voice calling her name again and again, trembling yet fierce…
A voice she knew.
Familiar.
But from where?
She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to recall, but the memory refused to surface.
Still… one thing was certain.
Someone had been with her last night.
Someone who stayed until the storm inside her had passed.
The coffee.
The food.
And that white flower.....
They whispered it without words.
Meanwhile…
"YOU WRETCHED GIRL!"
The sharp crack of a scolding voice echoed through another part of the city.
Grandmother's fingers twisted a young ear mercilessly.
And the culprit.....none other than Talotkan...wriggled and twisted like a mischievous child caught red-handed.
"Where were you all night?!" Grandmother thundered, her eyes blazing.
"I sent you with food...FOOD, Talotkan! And you disappear until dawn?! Do you have a death wish?!"
Talotkan winced but made no real effort to escape.
If anything… there was a sly curve to her lips, as though she welcomed this storm...because it was easier than explaining the one she had just survived.
When Grandmother's anger finally ebbed into exasperated sighs, Talotkan straightened, her eyes losing their playful gleam.
And then....
She spoke.
Softly at first, then with growing weight, she recounted everything.
Every detail of last night.
Every word.
Every scream.
By the time she finished, Grandmother's face had gone pale.
Her shoulders sagged under the weight of sorrow.
"How much pain must one child endure…" the old woman whispered, her voice trembling with age and grief.
But before silence could settle....
Talotkan's voice cut through the room again.
This time, calm.
Almost too calm.
"Grandmother…"
Her dark eyes glinted with something sharp, something unspoken.
"Do you… know Yim's mother?"
The question struck like lightning.
Grandmother froze.
For the first time in years, her hands shook...
And the world seemed to hold its breath.