She wiped her tears, her breath still uneven. "Klaus, I want to tell you a story," she said softly, her voice steadier now. Klaus felt his heart skip a beat—finally, she was about to open up.
He nodded, letting her take her time. "I'm listening," he said, his voice gentle and patient.
Miriam closed her eyes for a moment as if gathering the strength to speak. She clutched his shirt a little tighter, and then, with a shaky breath, she began.
"It's about my sister… and how I failed her," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The pain was still there, raw and deep. Klaus stayed quiet, knowing this was the story she'd been holding inside for far too long.
"I wasn't always like this," she continued. "Cold, distant. I used to feel things—happiness, anger, sadness. I used to care. But something happened… something I could never undo."
