Through Esme's conversations, he learned something important—something he had been aching to know. The girl he had grown so fond of, the one who filled his lonely days with warmth and laughter, had a name. Her name was Helga.
He whispered it to himself, over and over, letting the sound of it settle in his mind like a soothing balm. "Helga…" It felt familiar, as though he had known it all along but had only just now been given permission to say it out loud.
Esme's visits were different, though. Where Helga would laugh and tease, Esme spoke in quiet tones, her words deliberate, often filled with stories that felt heavy, like they carried unspoken truths. There was something in her words that made Aaron feel uneasy at times—a distance that reminded him of the hollow spaces inside himself.
