Chapter Two
Adam led me down the darkened hall, my heart pounding with every step. The air in this mansion was colder, thicker, as if the walls were holding secrets too painful to be spoken out loud. His warning echoed in my mind."Don't say I didn't warn you." We stood in front of a sleek, black door that blended into the modern design of the home. I observed as Samir's hand hovered over the knob for a moment prior to he ultimately opened it. Breathless, I braced myself. Inside the room was oddly quiet. Sun streamed in through the enormous windows, illuminating a space that is spotless but empty. A pale grey carpet covered the ground, toys and books sat neatly on their shelves, unopened. And in the center of the room, in an oversized armchair, all curled up, was a little boy with his back to us. Sami. His dark hair was somewhat tousled, his small body swallowed up by the chair. He did not even attempt to turn around or even react to us whatsoever. I made a hesitant step forward, but Adam's voice stopped me. "Do not expect him to respond," he says, his voice level, but with something restrained. I turned, glancing back at him. "Has he always been like this?" Adam's jaw tightens. "He has not said past a few sentences in the last six months." Six months! My heart clenched as I was met with the form of Sami, who was there hugging his knees to his chest, his small fingers gripping the fabric of his sweater as if it's the only thing holding him to the real world. I walked a few steps and stopped next to him, crouching down to his level, attempting not to get too close. "Hi, Sami." My voice is soft, friendly Silence. He didn't budge, but I could see the way his shoulders tightened just a little. He'd heard me. Something, fear and loss, or something else, is keeping him trapped inside himself. I smiled gently. "You don't have to talk to me. But I'd very much like to be your friend." Still nothing. Adam fidgeted behind me, impatience evident in his posture. "See? I told you." Totally ignoring him, I sat down slowly onto the floor, drawing my knees up as if I couldn't be bothered with anything else. "Do you know I have a daughter?" I said flatly, attempting to keep my voice light. "She's six, and she loves dinosaurs." I dug into my bag, producing a small plastic dinosaur toy and placing it on the floor next to me. "She said I should bring this, just in case you like dinosaurs too." Sami's fingers fluttered. It was tiny, hardly perceptible, but my heart skipped a beat. Adam, though, let out a sigh. "This is useless." "Maybe it is. But I don't think he's the problem." I snapped, glancing at him with annoyance simmering just beneath my skin. Adam's expression turned stern. "And what does that tell you?" I rise, my voice even. "It means you're speaking like he's some lost soul. Some busted part of something that has to be fixed." His eyes had drawn in ominously. "And you can fix that in a week?" I exhaled and looked again at Sami, still crumpled over his chair. "I don't know. But I want to try." For a moment, Adam hadn't said a word. And then he whirled around. "Lunch is at one. Be there." And with that, he was gone. I wasn't supposed to resume till tomorrow, why was he asking me to stay for lunch? I watched him leave the door before turning to Sami. He still hasn't moved. But the dinosaur? It is no longer where I had left it. ………. The dining area was as cold as the house itself. Across from us ran a big dark wood table, but only three of us occupied the space: Adam at the top, Sami to the right of him, and myself further down the table. Lunch had been served, but the silence was oppressive. Sami pushed at his food, obviously not interested. Adam barely touched his food, his eyes flicking between me and his son. I focused on Sami. "Do you know Lee likes to eat her rice one grain at a time?" I suddenly burst out, shattering the silence. "She says it makes the food last longer." Sami remained silent, but I could have sworn I detected a spark of amusement in his eyes. Adam exhaled a rough breath. "Are you always this talkative?" "Only when I need to be." Adam glanced at me for a moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he pushed his plate away and stood up. "I have work to do." "Lunch isn't over." I said, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm done." He walked out of the room without a word, leaving Sami and me alone. "I guess it's just us, then." I sighed at the look on the little boy's face. His eyes flashed back toward the door, his small hands clenched tighter on the fork. And I just sat there, watching him. "You miss your dad, don't you?" I said softly. Sami tensed. He must have been wondering how I knew. "I know how that feels." I smiled sorrowfully. There was a loud silence between the two of us. I never once looked away from him, I simply stared. I saw him move his hands, then ever so slightly, Sami's grip on the fork relaxed. It wasn't much, but it was something.The kettle was just starting to sing when someone knocked on the entrance door.I blinked, half-dazed, the spoon in my hand suspended mid-air. I wasn't expecting any visitor, nobody even knew I lived here. It was already seven o'clock, who visits people that late? The children were sleeping upstairs, and the stillness in the house was sacred.One part of me was afraid as I switched off the stove and moved silently towards the door, tightening the sash on my robe.When I opened it, I almost forgot how to breathe as a result if whom I saw. "Adam?" My voice shattered on his name. He was standing there, weary from travel, eyes dark with something feral. His box stood lazily behind him, his jacket rumpled, hair uncombed. He looked as though he'd had no sleep, as though he'd just stepped off the plane, he looked a total mess. “What are you doing here?” You're supposed to be gone for a week and today is just…”His gaze found mine. "Shhhh," he whispered, voice low and pleading. "Someone w
Maya's Pov Adam left before sunrise.I stood there with Sami by my side, the crisp morning air circulating through the slightly opened door. The sky wasn't yet brightened, the entire setting was painted in gray tones, dense and immobile.He looked like he hadn't slept, even though he was smartly dressed like always. His collar on the shirt was in place, dark trousers clinging to his long physique. He clutched one hand with a suitcase and had a phone tucked into the other, gazing at me like he wanted to say something but just couldn't get the right words to come out.His eyes scanned my face, curious. "Will you be all right?""We'll be fine," I answered, forcing a slight smile as I looked down at Sami. "We'll wait."He didn't smile back. Just stared at me for a very long, quiet moment. Then his fingers brushed against mine, lightly, barely at all but long enough that I could sense it to the bone of my bones. His eyes said the rest.Take care of them for me.Not him. Not just Sami.The
Adam's POV The sun penetrated the tall windows, tracing golden stripes across the breakfast table. I sat in silence, its warmth having little effect on the heavy chill settled deep within my chest. My coffee remained cold, unmoved. Across from me, Sami poked at his toast with a cautious fork, as though he was tasting something new. Maya encouraged him with a low, gentle monotone, one so different from the one I'd built for us.I watched him, my son, this little human who once had burst into my arms unguarded. Now, even looking at me seemed to take effort.After breakfast, the scraunch of my chair against the marble was too loud. I stood up slowly, hands moist despite the serenity I tried to project."Sami," I said to him, very quiet, soft. "Do you want to take a walk with me? Just a little one, around the garden."He froze. Juice glass hovering in mid-air, halfway to his mouth, eyes wide and perplexed. He looked over at Maya, and something in my chest tugged tight at how he looked f
Maya's Pov I didn't mean to sit that close. I didn't even remember how I ended up on the floor beside him, one arm thrown over the couch, just... there. Close enough to hear him breathe. Close enough to feel the subtle trembling beneath it. Adam was shattered. Not in a flashy, dramatic way. Just still. Too still. Like someone trying too hard not to shatter.And maybe that is the reason I said nothing at first. Because sometimes silence speaks more deeply than words ever could.At least I was with him, two near strangers linked by suffering we did not know how to apportion.His eyes were closed, eyelashes lying heavily across his cheekbones. He seemed younger somehow. Exhausted in a way sleep could not remove.I had to reach out. Not to fix him, I wasn't that dumb, but to let him know that I saw him. That I wasn't turning my head the other way.And then, without even opening his eyes, he whispered, "He spoke with me."His voice was so soft, I almost didn't hear it.I nodded slowly. "
Adam's POVI didn’t think I would feel this torn.When Sami said those words—two simple, fragile words—I lost something in me. Or maybe I found something. I don’t even know anymore. But I knew right then I wasn’t going anywhere."Let's go back inside," I said to them, my voice barely above a whisper, thick and cracking. They all hesitated, even Maya. Especially Maya. But I couldn’t look at her just yet. I just needed a second.Sami was still wrapped in my arms, his little body trembling, worn out from all the crying. I lowered myself onto the couch with him, still holding him, my hands cradling him like he might break if I let go. And maybe I would too.The moment they were all inside, silence dropped over the room like a heavy blanket. I felt it, pressing down on me, making it harder to breathe."I don't know what to do," I whispered to no one, my lips brushing the crown of Sami's head. The tears came quietly. They weren’t dramatic or loud. Just steady. I didn’t even realize I was cr
The morning sun filtered through the blinds in a golden beam, warming stripes on the hardwood floor of the living room. I stood against the kitchen island, arms wrapped around a mug of coffee that had grown lukewarm.Maya was resting on the counter, her hair dropped over one shoulder as she made a note on her notepad. There was something soothing in her presence, something grounding. She brought structure to the chaos I'd gotten too used to."I believe we should tell them about it today," she told me without even looking up."Tell them what?" I asked, knowing full well anyway.She stared up at me and met my eyes. "About the home schooling, their schedule, their tutor. Everything. I know they are only children, but they ought to know. They ought to feel included."I didn't flinch. "You're right."She was… Again, as always. How did she manage it? Always knowing what was right. Always bringing it to me with such gentle confidence. There was strength in her, like a steel wrapped in silk