The mansion was quiet, almost eerily so, as the night deepened. The only light came from the pale moon filtering through the heavy curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Mia had been tidying quietly, her thoughts still swirling with the shattered picture frame from earlier. She had barely managed to calm herself, still shaken from Aiden's fury.
Then, she heard it soft murmurs, almost unintelligible, coming from the direction of his room. She froze, recognizing the rhythm, the tremor in his voice.
"M… Mae… I'm… sorry…"
Her heart clenched. The name barely spoken, yet so heavy, carried the weight of grief, guilt, and longing. She moved closer, careful not to startle him.
Pushing the door open gently, she saw him tossing lightly in his bed, his face slick with sweat. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his hands curled into fists at his sides. The shadows of the past clung to him, shaping his nightmares.
"Sir…" she whispered softly, approaching the bed. Her hand hovered for a heartbeat before she touched his damp hair, brushing it gently back from his forehead. "It's okay… it's just a dream," she murmured.
His lips parted slightly, muttering again, broken and fragile. "I… I'm… sorry… Mae…"
Mia's heart ached at the sound. The walls he built around himself during the day were gone, stripped away by memory and loss. Here, he was vulnerable, a boy tormented by the accident, haunted by what he had lost.
She reached out, wiping the sweat from his forehead with her sleeve, careful and tender. "Shh… it's alright," she whispered. Her fingers trembled slightly; the intimacy of the moment weighed on both of them.
Then her eyes fell on the leg, still hidden under the blanket. A subtle movement caught her attention a tiny twitch, almost imperceptible, but undeniably there. Her heart skipped a beat.
It moves… it can move. It's not gone. He can be healed.
Mia's mind raced. This was the opportunity she had been searching for not just for the job, not just for the money, but for something far greater. She could help him. She could give him a chance at a life beyond his wheelchair.
For a moment, she just watched him, breathing slowly, murmuring Mae's name in the darkness. The boy who had seemed so cold and untouchable during the day now lay before her, fragile, human, and broken but not beyond repair.
And in that silence, Mia made a silent vow.
She would not give up. She would find a way to earn his trust, to stay in this house, and to help him regain what he had lost not only his mobility, but his hope, his heart, and perhaps even the smile Mae had left behind.
One small twitch in a dark night had changed everything.