The ride back home was long. It felt like a part of me had been left behind.
When we arrived at the mansion, I didn't say much. I walked straight to the maids' quarters. Kira followed me, trying to say something, trying to make me smile, but I shook my head.
"I just need some time alone," I told her quietly.
She nodded. "Okay. I'll be here if you need me."
I was thankful she understood.
That night, I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling. Memories came rushing in — Kate calling my name, Kate checking on me, Kate reminding me to eat. The silence felt loud. For the first time in a long while, I felt truly alone again.
I wished I had been there for her.
••••••••••
The next morning, I made up my mind. If I didn't go, it would haunt me for the rest of my life.
After finishing my duties, I went to meet the butler. My hands were shaking, but I forced myself to speak.
"Excuse me, sir," I said.
He looked up. "Yes?"
"I would like to ask for a day off," I said softly.
He paused. "For what reason?"
"To visit someone's grave," I replied. "She raised me."
He studied my face for a moment, then nodded. "One day only. Make sure you return early the next morning."
"Thank you," I said, bowing my head slightly. "Thank you very much."
•••••••••
I was packing a few of my things when a knock came at the door.
"Kara?" Kira said as she stepped inside.
I looked up. "Yes?"
"You're taking a day off," she said. "To visit Kate's grave."
I nodded.
"I'm coming with you," she said immediately.
I frowned. "Kira, you don't have to."
"I know," she replied. "But I want to. Please."
"There might be issues if your mother finds out," I said.
She shrugged. "I don't care."
I sighed, then nodded. "Alright."
She smiled softly. "Good."
•••••••
The next day, we left early.
When we got to the orphanage, everything felt the same but empty at the same time. The staff recognized me and quietly led us to Kate's grave.
I knelt down and placed my hand on the soil.
"I'm here," I whispered.
Tears rolled down my face as I paid my respect. I stayed there longer than I planned. When I finally stood up, I turned to Kira.
"I want to stay here for a while," I said. "Please go home. I don't want trouble for you."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," I said. "I'll be fine."
She nodded slowly. "I'll check on you later."
I watched her leave, then turned back to the grave. For a moment, it felt like the orphanage was the only place I belonged.
Kira returned home that evening, but she felt heavy, like she was carrying the weight of the world. She barely noticed anyone in the hallway and walked straight to her room. She shut the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed, hugging a pillow to her chest.
Her thoughts were full of Kara.
The way Kara had knelt by Kate's grave. The way she tried not to cry, even though she clearly wanted to. The way she thanked her for coming, like she was worried she had asked too much.
Kara didn't belong in this world of loneliness, Kira thought bitterly. She didn't deserve to be alone.
Kira lay back and stared at the ceiling. She could still hear Kara's quiet voice, see the tears running down her cheeks, see the way she forced herself to stand tall. And Kira realized something that made her chest tighten — she couldn't let Kara be alone anymore.
The next morning, she made up her mind. She couldn't wait. She had to do something.
She walked toward her father's study, her stomach tight with nerves. She knocked lightly.
"Come in," her father's voice said.
Kira pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her father was at his desk, papers scattered in front of him. He looked up and raised an eyebrow.
"Good morning. What's going on?"
Kira's throat felt dry. "I… I want to talk to you about Kara."
"The maid?" he asked, his voice calm but curious.
"Yes," Kira said quickly. "But she's not just a maid to me. She… she's like a sister I never had."
Her father leaned back, studying her.
"She grew up in an orphanage," Kira continued. "The woman who raised her… she just died. Kara went to her burial alone. She has no family, no one to care for her. And she doesn't complain. She's so strong, Dad… but I can't just watch her be alone."
Her voice trembled. She didn't want to cry, but tears threatened anyway.
Her father stayed silent for a long moment. Then he asked, "And you want me to do what?"
"I want us to adopt her," Kira said, her voice shaking but determined. "I don't have a sister. She deserves to have a family. I… I care about her, Dad. She's like the sister I never had."
Her father rubbed his chin and looked out the window. "I see," he said slowly. "I've noticed you've been… happier these past few days. And I think I understand why."
Kira swallowed. "She makes me happy. And I know she needs someone too. I don't want her to be alone anymore."
Her father nodded, but didn't speak. "I'll think about it," he finally said. "You've given me a lot to consider."
"Thank you, Dad," Kira said softly, her heart still racing. She left the room slowly, feeling a strange mixture of hope and anxiety. It wasn't a yes… but it wasn't a no either.
For the first time, she felt like Kara might finally have a place to belong.