Chapter 2: The Truth Beneath the Surface
The maid helps the elderly woman sit on a stone bench nearby, her hands shaking as she tries to steady her breathing. The older woman looks devastated, humiliated, her nightgown clinging heavily to her skin.
The man in the blue suit moves toward them instinctively, checking if they’re hurt.
But his attention keeps snapping back to the woman in green.
“You need to leave,” he says firmly now. “Right now.”
She lets out a quiet, almost amused breath.
“Leave?” she repeats.
She takes a step forward, the emerald fabric flowing like liquid confidence. “This house, this garden, this entire situation—you think you understand it, but you don’t.”
The maid looks up, trembling. “Please… stop this…”
For the first time, something in the woman’s expression tightens. Not anger—but pressure. Like something beneath her control is starting to surface.
The man notices it too.
“What is this really about?” he demands.
A long pause.
Then she finally speaks, quieter now, but sharper.
“It was never just about them.”
May you like
Her gaze shifts—past the two soaked women, past the garden, landing somewhere deeper in memory than in the present.
And for a moment, the confidence in her stance fractures just slightly.
