Kairo has been acting different lately. But what's weirdest is how he behaves around me. He doesn't have that annoying look on his face that screams, "Just fuck off." His brows are relaxed, his face suddenly capable of more expression.
After I calmed down that day, I found myself longing for his touch, craving that unexpected comfort his presence brought. Is it because no one has ever really noticed me before, and now I'm mistaking pity for something else?
Edarn and Matteo are acting as usual. Edarn's cold, distant, and irritated by me. Matteo's still friendly but cautious, hesitant to speak without thinking.
One day, I overheard Edarn and Kairo arguing. Edarn was yelling about someone, telling Kairo to put the past behind him, focus on the present, and stop playing with fire. It was classic older-brother energy. Meanwhile, Matteo didn't even seem to care about whatever fight was going on.
It's crazy, living with strangers who treat me better than my own parents ever did.
...
I was bored so I asked Matteo for a pen and paper. I want to make a rough blueprint of this house to start my mission inside this mansion. He told me to just grab one from the library and see if I could find a book to kill my boredom.
The doors opened to a grand, classic library. Dark wood walls cradled shelves filled with leather-bound books. The space had two levels, with a balcony railing upstairs for more book access. In one corner stood a white statue of a robed figure, lending the room a formal touch. Ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting warm, gentle light everywhere.
In the centre, a wooden chess table sat ready, black pieces poised for a game. It was surrounded by luxurious leather armchairs and a black tufted loveseat. A richly patterned rug covered the floor, pulling it all together.
The scent of old paper, leather, and fresh air filled the room.
In one corner lay a worktable, probably where Kairo spends his time. But what caught my eye was a small cosy nook on the opposite side. It was exactly the kind of space that makes you want to curl up with a book and disappear. The nook sat inside a circular bookshelf, like a cocoon of stories. Warm light spilled down from above, touching neatly arranged books and a soft armchair in the centre. A little round table with a glowing lamp added to the intimate vibe. The wood floor and dark-toned shelves gave the space a grounded, comforting feel. Quiet, thoughtful, and beautiful, it was like a hug for the imagination.
I wondered why Kairo or anyone would create something like this. Did he like it here? A tiny cosy room inside a huge library with a favourite book right at your side.
I stepped in and sat down, mesmerised by how unique and comfortable it was.
I grabbed a random book from the shelf. It had a green leather cover, with letters carved by hand in a golden colour. The title read, "It Depends on You," I muttered. I started reading in the cosy corner, forgetting everything else.
I vanished into the book's world, unaware of anything beyond this hive. Books whisk me away from harsh reality, wrapping me in a comforting alternative that only lives inside my head.
I remember when I first started reading...in high school. Comics were always easy for Rafe and me as kids, but in high school, I stumbled onto a fantasy novel my classmate recommended.
That's when I got hooked, until I started working. After that, the books slipped away, and with them, a part of myself. The struggles in the novels make me forget my own, even if just for a moment.
"Ahm…" A coughing sound yanked me back to reality.
Weirdly enough... I'm used to that.
Kairo stood leaning against the frame of the nook. Dressed all in black... a skin-tight shirt with the top button undone, black dress pants, and a coat draped over his arm. His hair was styled, and his eyes locked on me.
"Are you checking me out?" He raised an eyebrow.
"N-no... not at all," I stammered. He was right. I was checking him out, though I hadn't meant to.
"How are you doing?" he asked. Was he referring to that day? I'm sure no one else in the house knows what he saw that day. He wouldn't tell anyone... right?
Am I thinking too much of him? He owes me nothing. Why would he care enough to keep my secret?
"Hello... are you here?" He snapped his fingers, breaking my thoughts.
"I'm good," I answered quietly. "Thank you for your help." I'd meant to say it before but never found a moment.
The silence stretched, and we stared at each other awkwardly. "I should go…" I got up, preparing to leave.
"You don't have to bear it all alone." His words stopped me cold.
I've avoided anything like this my whole life... friends, school, college. Even if he wants to help, he shouldn't. He can't. Not even my parents cared about how I've been for all these years. How can a stranger, a criminal, or the person I'm assigned to put behind bars say that?
"It's okay to rely on someone. It's not…"
"Thanks, and sorry about that day. Don't bother yourself with me; it's not worth it." I cut him off. He was staring, probably annoyed. Kairo... the same guy who offered me a hug and words of comfort, got shut down.
I walked away, not daring to look back. If only he'd met me then, I might have accepted his help. But after so long on my own, help feels like a trap.
I'd rather let my trauma drown me than hold onto a hope that someone will rescue me. I don't want another betrayal. Once was enough.
And why should they care about how I'm handling this? It shouldn't matter, and it could be my weakness they use against me. How could Kairo possibly know how to help? Has he ever met someone like me? Or is it something he understands?
…
"How's dinner? You like it?" Matteo asked, breaking the uneasy silence at the table. Edarn was here too, making everything awkward.
"It's okay," Edarn said, clearly not enjoying my presence. He looked annoyed by his brother's choice to have me around.
"I didn't ask you." Matteo pushed his buttons, and I watched Edarn's temper flare.
"Mira…" He grabbed my attention. "How is it?" He looked at me eagerly, like my answer would somehow make him a winner.
"It's good," I smiled.
"I knew it." He cheered. "Told you she'd like it. One point for me," he said to Kairo, who suddenly caught interest in the conversation. He looked at me confused, then at the food.
"Why do you like it?" he asked. What game are these two playing? Matteo said one point for himself, and now Kairo's suddenly hooked on my food preferences?
"Because it's good," I replied, stuffing a bite in my mouth. Tonight's menu was Chinese: kung pao chicken, stir-fried bok choy, mapo tofu, and rice. Dinner changes every day, usually decided by the head maid, Aunt Aisa, or Kairo. But given Matteo's excitement, he probably called today's shots.
"Is it your favourite?" Kairo pressed again. I looked at him, puzzled. Why did it matter? I'm not a guest here. Or am I?
"No…" I said. Why should my favourite food concern them?
"See," he said, leaning back with a satisfied smile, while Matteo's cheer disappeared.
"What do you mean? Your favourite's not Chinese." Matteo whined.
Ignoring them, I finished my dinner quickly.
Afterward, I retreated to my room and didn't leave until morning. No one came in either. I don't know if the door was locked or if someone stood guard.
I've been here long enough to start working on my mission. Sneaking around won't be easy, but I have to try. Staying locked away all night isn't helping. I need to figure out how to get out of this house.
Morning came slow, grey light seeping through the heavy curtains. I lay in bed, eyes tracing cracks on the ceiling, mind racing. If I wanted to get out of this house, I needed a plan and fast.
The house was too quiet now, too empty. Even Matteo and Kairo had slipped into their own routines, like they didn't notice I existed beyond the surface.
I slipped from bed and pressed my ear against the door. The hallway was silent, except for faint footsteps in the distance. Their lives carried on like a separate world I wasn't meant to break into.
I dressed quickly, choosing dark clothes that wouldn't draw attention. I wasn't looking for a grand escape. Just a small crack in the walls to slip through, unnoticed.
I did grab a notebook from the library and a pen to make a rough sketch of where each room is and it's not complete; I need to work more on it. I moved around on the ground floor for a while and then tucked the notebook under my arm and slipped back to my room the same way I came, quiet as a shadow.
The walls here weren't just heavy wood and plaster. They felt like traps, closing in tighter every minute. The way Kairo looked at me in the library... like he was weighing something I wasn't ready to share, it rattled me.
But no matter how much he or anyone here pretended to care, none of them were going to hand me a way out. That much was clear. This wasn't some movie where a mysterious stranger becomes your saviour. It was real life. Cold and unforgiving.
Days blended into each other with the same muted routine: meals I barely touched, silence stretched long enough to hear my own heartbeat echoing. Edarn retreated into his own world, grumbling under his breath when I crossed paths. Matteo stayed distant, friendly but guarded, like talking to me was a risk he wasn't willing to fully take.
And Kairo? He dwindled into a shadow in the corners of my thoughts. He wasn't planning my escape. Not now, not ever. If he cared at all, it was tangled with something dark, personal, and unspoken.
So I kept my head down.
I spent every free moment poring over that sketch of the house, marking doors, windows, tight hallways, and anything that might offer a sliver of an advantage. Sometimes I traced the routes with my finger until my skin went numb from the cold.
But the walls... this place... had eyes everywhere. Cameras, guards, who knows what else. It wasn't just a house. It was a cage dressed up like a home.
Every step outside my room felt like walking into a minefield. An accidental glance, a stray word... it could all blow up in my face.
Still, I had to try.
I wasn't about to wait for some miracle or a merciful soul to offer me freedom on a silver platter. If I got out of here, it would be on my own terms.
So for now, I'll keep playing the part they expect. Silent. Invisible. Careful.
But the night will come when I find that crack. When I slip through. When this nightmare finally starts to break.
Until then, I sit with my notebook and my thoughts.
Waiting. Watching. Planning.
Alone.