Chapter 38: Letters Unread
The morning was unusually quiet. A soft rain painted streaks down the windows, the gentle pattering a lullaby to a house that had recently come alive again.
Tiania sat in the window nook of Henrick’s home, wrapped in a fleece blanket Henessa had brought her the night before. The child’s sweet scent still clung to the fabric- lavender and honey. Her fingers traced the teacup’s rim as steam curled from the chamomile blend Edwin had left earlier. The air around her felt suspended, like something waited to be said.
Henrick appeared at the doorway, his expression uncertain but gentle. In his hands, he held a simple wooden box, weathered at the edges and tied with a pale ribbon.
She turned slowly, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of curiosity.
“I’ve been holding onto these,” he said softly, stepping closer. “From the time you left to the day you were his, and when you woke up.”
Tiania blinked. “What are they?”
