Isla walked for several minutes without seeing anyone. When she turned into a road, a small two-story house suddenly appeared in front of her. The ground was covered with snow, and the way to the closed door was cleared. She stepped forward curiously, put her hand on the door, and tried to push it open.
With a little force, the door creaked and she pushed it open. The influx of light allowed her to see that there was another door inside, and she continued to push open the second door. The deeper you go, the deeper you go.
The surroundings were so quiet that there was no sound, and there was not a trace of dust in the air. She could see traces of someone living here.
Like a child hunting for treasure, she then pushed open several heavy doors. She was so tired that she was panting. When she raised her eyes, she saw a young man sitting in a wheelchair in a softly lit inner room, holding a book in his hand and reading.
