"Stupid!" Silvia slapped her forehead lightly as she folded the laundry. "How could I fall asleep like that? I had to meet Jordan!" She winced painfully. No matter how much she tried to keep a normal face, the knots in her stomach only tightened. Huge circles swam before her eyes, as if she were hallucinating under the weight of her own stress. She was worried sick.
Lola came rushing toward Silvia, proudly holding up her empty plate. "Look, Silvia! I ate my food! Even the veggies!" she exclaimed, beaming.
Silvia turned to her with a heavy heart, unable to muster a smile despite Lola's excitement. But she still reached out, gently rubbing the little girl's head. "That is so brave of you," she said softly. "I think you deserve a little extra dessert tonight."
"I do?" Lola clasped her hands together joyfully, her eyes shining with excitement.
"Yes. Now go and ask the maid to dress you up for playtime," Silvia instructed.
"Okay!" Lola chirped before dashing away.
Silvia took a deep breath, placing the last piece of laundry on the table before turning toward her room. It's today or never. I have to come up with an excuse for Mother and leave tonight. But what will I say?
Just then, Sandra appeared at the other end of the corridor, their eyes meeting instantly.
"Good, I found you," Sandra said, making Silvia's ears perk up.
"I'm heading out in a moment," Sandra continued. "I'll be gone for a while, so don't wait for me."
"Oh!" An excited gasp escaped Silvia's lips, and she quickly covered her mouth.
Sandra gave her a confused look before brushing past her without another word, as if wasting time on Silvia was beneath her.
"Okay, Mother," Silvia replied in a low mumble, internally feeling as if she had just discovered the perfect way to leave the mansion unnoticed.
Back in her room, Silvia hurriedly rummaged through her cupboard, tossing aside every piece of clothing she owned in a frantic search for her cloak. She knew she had it somewhere—something that would help her move unnoticed. But as minutes passed and her wardrobe emptied, frustration crept in.
Where is it? she thought, crouching in confusion. She was certain she had seen it years ago. Could the previous maids have taken it to the attic?
Back when their family was in a better place, when they had maids to handle every little task, losing track of possessions hadn't been a problem. But now? Now they could barely afford the single maid they had left. A bitter pang of nostalgia settled in her chest.
For a fleeting moment, she felt sorry for her father—stuck with daughters who could offer him no security, forced to rely on strong sons-in-law just so he could spend his old age in peace.
Shaking off the thought, Silvia straightened and made her way toward the attic. It took nearly an hour of searching, dust settling in her hair and cobwebs clinging to her sleeves, but finally, she found it.
As she turned toward the window, she saw that the sun had gone down, casting the world in twilight's embrace. A relieved breath escaped her lips.
She didn't have to wait any longer. It was time to see Jordan.
The second Silvia stepped closer to her room, she spotted Esha at the door, just about to knock. But before her knuckles met the wood, she noticed Silvia behind her.
"There you are," Esha said.
Silvia's heart skipped a beat. She instinctively hid the cloak behind her back and tried to steady her breath. "Esha? What brings you here?" she asked, her voice slightly uneven.
Esha's gaze flickered to the hand Silvia was hiding before meeting her eyes with a plain, unreadable expression. "I came to tell you that Lola fell asleep in my room. Mother isn't home, and I didn't want you to worry and think she went missing," she reported in her usual monotonous tone.
Silvia exhaled, nodding. "Okay. Thank you for letting me know."
Esha gave a short nod and turned to leave. Relief washed over Silvia, but just as she started to relax, Esha suddenly stopped and glanced back.
"Are you going out too?" she asked.
Silvia froze. One look at Esha's unwavering stare told her there was no point in lying—she had been caught.
"I need to meet Jordan tonight," she admitted. "I can't go to the ball, and if he doesn't do something about it, I'll be married off to someone else." Her voice wavered, the weight of her fears pressing down on her.
For a moment, Esha simply stared at her before giving a brief nod. "I'll take care of Lola tonight. Don't worry."
With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Silvia standing there.
Slightly relieved, Silvia pulled the cloak tighter around herself and hurried inside to change. She grabbed a small lantern, its fragile glow barely enough to light her way, and carefully sneaked out through the back door.
She hazily recalled the path to Jordan's house, though the memory felt uncertain—she had never truly ventured beyond the boundaries of her home. The very act of stepping into the unknown sent a shiver down her spine. The darkness made it worse. Not a single streetlamp was lit, and the town felt eerily lifeless. Was the situation truly this dire? She had heard her parents talk about the dire situation but she had never left the mansion so she didn't know it was that bad.
As she strode through the empty streets, the dim light of her lantern flickered, casting fleeting shadows along the cracked cobblestone path. Her gaze drifted to the sides of the road, where figures lay curled against the cold ground, their thin forms barely covered by tattered rags. Children and adults alike, covered in filth, clung to whatever warmth they could find, their shallow breaths barely visible in the night air.
Silvia's brows furrowed. What had become of this town? Was it simply the late hour making everything feel so bleak? But no—this wasn't normal. Even at night, the streets should have been bustling with life. Instead, they were ghostly silent, with only the occasional shadow of another lost soul slipping by.
After what felt like an eternity of wandering through the nightmare that was the town's decrepit streets, Silvia finally reached the doorstep of a small, familiar house. The journey had been nothing short of terrifying—the filthy alleys, the unsettling stares of passersby, and the occasional glint of malice in their weary eyes. Every step had been a battle against the dread curling in her stomach.
Now, standing before the humble home, its walls worn and barely large enough to hold more than two rooms, she swallowed hard. A nervous glance over her shoulder confirmed that she was alone—for now. Taking a deep breath, she raised her fist and knocked.
Silence, No response from inside for a very long time even though she waited.
The quiet felt deafening, thick and oppressive, making her pulse race. Just as she lifted her hand to knock again, a chorus of drunken cackles echoed from the far end of the street. Her heart shrank at the sound, fear licking up her spine like cold fire. This time, she pounded harder, desperation sharpening her movements.
Hurried footsteps approached from within.
The door creaked open just enough for a sliver of warm light to spill onto the doorstep, illuminating a disheveled figure—Jordan. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling beneath the half-buttoned shirt he had clearly thrown on in a hurry. Though the dim glow wasn't strong, Silvia could see the flush on his face, the way his hair was tousled, his posture tense.
For a moment, she could only stare, her mind grasping at explanations.
Then, Jordan stiffened. His fingers tightened around the edge of the door as if holding it closed would somehow keep her from seeing what lay beyond. His expression darkened with something between panic and guilt.
"Silvia… what are you doing here?" His voice was hushed, almost horrified.
"Are you okay, Jordan?" Silvia asked, concern knitting her brows as she took a step closer. His face was flushed, his breathing uneven—was he sick?
Without thinking, she reached up and pressed her palm against his forehead, checking for a fever.
But the moment her skin touched his, he flinched back as if burned.
And then—
A voice. Soft, drowsy, and unmistakably feminine.
"Who's there, Jordan?"
The words were laced with irritation, the kind that came from being disturbed at an inconvenient moment.
Silvia's chest constricted, a sharp, crushing pain blooming inside her. It felt as though her ears had started ringing, drowning out everything else. Her vision blurred slightly, and before she could even process what she had just heard, a scent wafted from Jordan's body.
A familiar, unmistakable scent.
Her throat tightened painfully.
Jordan's gaze wavered for a split second before he hastily pushed the door further closed. "Silvia, you should leave. It's late—just go home," he said, his voice firm but avoiding her eyes. "I'll… come see you sometime."
Then, without another word, the door shut in her face.