Her steps were slow.
Each one felt like stepping on cotton—unsteady and heavy.
I stayed where I was and didn’t follow her.
But my gaze remained fixed on her back, all the way until she disappeared around the bend of the staircase.
At that moment, there was only one thought in my mind.
This would not end here.
No matter who carried it out back then.
No matter what lay behind it.
I would peel back the truth, layer by layer, until everything was laid bare.
Aria didn’t return to her bedroom.
She turned toward the embroidery room instead.
Her back was straight, yet it carried a fragility that felt like sheer force of will holding it together.
I didn’t make a sound. I simply followed, my steps extremely light.
She walked to the window.
The sunlight was just right, slanting down fro
