10: Baby Steps

  The aroma of caramel fills the air before I even reach the kitchen. My stomach rumbles involuntarily, and I can’t help but smile. Mariel is bustling around, steam rising from the little coffee machine.

  

  “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirps brightly as I step in. 

  

  “I thought we’d start today with a proper breakfast—your favorite, and yes, I managed to whip up a caramel latte just for you.”

  

  I blink, surprised. “You made caramel lattes?”

  

  She grins, bouncing on her heels. “Of course! I couldn’t let you suffer without your favorite. And I promise, it’s almost as good as your café back home. Almost.”

  

  How did she know about that?

  

  I laugh softly, the sound warm in my chest. “Thank you. Really.”

  

  She hands me a steaming cup, and the sweet, warm aroma hits me like a hug. A small plate of soft bread sits beside it. I settle at the table, inhaling the scent before taking a careful sip. The caramel sweetness coats my tongue and melts away some of the tension that’s been lingering for days.

  

  “Feeling better today?” Mariel asks, leaning casually against the counter, her eyes sparkling. “You look… brighter. More like yourself.”

  

  I nod, smiling. “I think I’m healed enough now. I feel… ready to explore. Finally.”

  

  Her face lights up. “Yay! That’s the spirit. We’ll start slow, of course. Don’t forget, the house is big, and there are a few rooms that are more private, so I’ll guide you.”

  

  I finish the last sip of my latte and let out a small sigh of contentment. For a moment, nothing else matters. The forest outside, the strange men I glimpsed before, the uncertainty—I can set them aside, at least for a little while.

  

  Mariel claps her hands lightly. “All right, breakfast done, energy restored, and now it’s adventure time! Follow me!”

  

  I stand, feeling the stretch of my muscles as I follow her down the hallway. My body feels lighter today. I can move more freely, and the ache in my ankle is barely noticeable now. Sunlight spills through the tall windows, casting playful patterns across the polished wood floor.

  

  “This is your house to explore,” Mariel says cheerfully, glancing at me with a smile. “Just remember, the doors that are closed off? Don’t try them. And outside is still off-limits for now.”

  

  I nod. “Got it.”

  

  She leads me first to the music room. Instruments line the walls: violins, a cello, a piano, even a harp in the corner. Sheet music rests neatly on stands. Mariel gestures enthusiastically toward the piano. “You can sit, play a little, or just listen. Music is a great way to relax.”

  

  I hover near the piano, fingers brushing lightly over the keys. The sound is soft, delicate, echoing faintly in the spacious room. I press a few keys experimentally, smiling faintly at the melody that escapes. Mariel hums along quietly, clearly enjoying my small attempt.

  

  “See?” she says. “Nothing to worry about. Just play, relax, enjoy.”

  

  I linger for a few minutes, letting the soft tones fill the space, before Mariel guides me toward the kitchen wing. 

  I notice the subtle signs of life: faint footprints on the polished floor, the smell of herbs in the air, a door left slightly ajar revealing a room stacked with blankets and supplies. I realize the house isn’t empty—it’s alive in small, almost imperceptible ways.

  

  “Those are the helpers’ quarters,” Mariel whispers as we pass the door. “Don’t peek unless you want to be distracted. There’s always someone around.”

  

  I nod, intrigued despite myself. The house feels bigger than I imagined, full of hidden corners and soft mysteries.

  

  Finally, Mariel leads me to a hallway lined with windows that overlook the forest. I pause, gazing outside. The men I glimpsed a few days ago are there again, dressed casually, walking slowly among the trees. 

  Their presence is subtle, almost casual, but I can’t shake the feeling that their eyes are on the property constantly. My stomach twists, but I remind myself Lucien said it’s safe for me inside.

  

  “Don’t worry,” Mariel says, reading my expression. “Those men are just part of the… protection. You won’t even notice them once you fully settle in.”

  

  I nod, letting my attention drift back to the house itself. The sunlight paints the floors golden, dust motes floating lazily in the air. I feel… normal. Almost.

  

  Mariel gestures to the end of the hall.

  

  “There’s a little sitting room here. Comfy chairs, a small fireplace, perfect for reading or daydreaming. Want to check it out?”

  

  I smile and follow her. The room is cozy, warm from the faint glow of the fireplace. Bookshelves line the walls, and a small tea set rests on a side table. I sink into one of the armchairs, feeling the soft cushions support me.

  

  Mariel kneels beside me, setting down a small tray of fresh fruit. 

  

  “Take your time,” she says. 

  

  “You don’t have to rush. Explore, relax, enjoy the house. And remember, I’m here if you need anything at all.”

  

  I nod, closing my eyes briefly. This is a quiet moment, a small bubble of peace. Sunlight, books, warmth, caramel lattes, and Mariel’s cheerful presence—it almost feels like a home.

  

  After a while, curiosity gets the better of me. I rise and move to the nearest shelf, scanning the spines of the books. Many are familiar, but some are old and delicate, with titles I don’t recognize. 

  I pull one carefully from the shelf and flip it open. The pages are yellowed, the ink faded slightly, but the story begins to pull me in immediately.

  

  Mariel hums softly as she tidies the room nearby, moving with the ease of someone who’s lived here her whole life. I glance at her, realizing how lucky I am to have someone so kind in a strange place.

  

  A soft creak of floorboards echoes from somewhere else in the house. I freeze, heart skipping a beat, but Mariel glances toward the sound with a reassuring smile. 

  

  “Don’t worry. That’s just someone moving around. You’re safe. See? Nothing scary here.”

  

  I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and smile faintly. Slowly, I wander toward the other rooms, discovering cozy nooks, shelves of trinkets, and even a small room with art supplies. Each space feels alive, carefully maintained, welcoming.

  

  I pause again by a window overlooking the forest. Sunlight glints on the leaves, and I notice movement—shadows among the trees. My stomach tightens again, but Mariel’s words echo softly in my mind. Safe inside. For now, I’m allowed to breathe.

  

  Leaning back against the windowsill, I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  

  This would totally be perfect with another cup of caramel latter, I think with a small laugh. The thought is absurdly comforting. 

  

  Somewhere in a normal world, I’d be sipping one right now, the sweet warmth filling me, the sunlight on my skin. And somehow, even here, I can almost feel it.

  

  Mariel glances at me and grins. “Want me to make you one to go while you explore  the rest of the house?”

  

   Can this woman read my mind or what?

  I grin back faintly. “Maybe later. For now… I think I’ll just enjoy the view.”

  

  For the first time in days, I feel… steady. Curious. Alive. The forest waits outside, mysterious and dark, but inside, the house is warm, alive, and safe.

  

  And right now, maybe I’ll enjoy the peace just a little longer. I feel like I’ve used up enough energy today.