It had been almost two weeks since the accident.
Samuel was recovering faster than anyone had expected. He could walk now, slowly but steadily, without the cane most of the time. The doctor had said he was healing well.
Everyone seemed relieved, except Grace.
She should’ve been happy. That was what she told herself every morning. Samuel didn’t need her help anymore, and that meant her job here was done. But when she looked at him walking around his room, leaning slightly against the table or sitting on the couch with a book in his hand, something in her chest tightened.
It wasn’t sadness. It wasn’t even longing. It was just… quiet.
Like a silence that had settled between two heartbeats.
The morning she decided to leave, the house was unusually still. The sunlight filtered softly through the curtains, touching the edge of the bed and the small table by the window. Samuel was sitting there, reading something.
Grace entered with a tray in her hands one last time.
