Clara
The door closed behind me with a soft click, and suddenly... Silence.
A silence unlike that of the mansion, unlike that of the hospital. This silence was filled with me, or with the woman I once was.
I stood motionless by the entrance, observing. My office was enormous; the windows covered almost an entire wall and offered a view of part of the city.
The morning light streamed in. There was a bookcase, a sofa, a meeting table, photographs, awards, accolades.
My gaze slowly scanned every corner, waiting, waiting to feel something.
A memory, an emotion, an image. Anything, but nothing happened, nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I felt a small pang of frustration. I began to walk slowly, my fingers brushing against the back of a chair, then a bookshelf. Then a painting.
I stopped in
