but a heavy silence lingered in the air, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional call of a bird. People moved about with measured steps, their eyes darting nervously as if a

The fear embedded in her entries was unmistakable, and the small objects Halimah had left behind felt like shattered fragments of a heart once whole. The diar

, as if Halimah had penned them through a haze of tears. Each entry drew her deeper into Halimah's world. Yet, what gnawed at Za

h 15th

she gave me that strange, penetrating look-one that seemed to see beyond the surface, as if she could peer into my very thoughts. It was a mixture of knowing and concern as if she wanted to share a hidden truth. But like every other time, she held her

iet authority. She had been there at the funeral, a solitary figure in the second row, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap,

mpound was immaculate, almost unnaturally so-pots of artificial flowers positioned perfectly, and the po

bered: regal and guarded, her sharp eyes holding the weight of years. "Zara,"

of recent cleanliness. Zara sat stiffly on the edge of her chair, clutching her ba

d as she poured steaming tea into delicate china

etting the tension fill

the woman continued, her voice s

surprise. "Did y

e with unwavering eyes. "She didn't trust easily. Your

er curiosity piqued. "

and every creak of the floorboards seemed amplified. Shadows danced along the walls, and the flickering candlelight accentuated

up trembling slightly before she set it down wi

hter was infectious, often filling the room with warmth and joy. Even at a young age, she displayed a remarkable

he whispered, her heart racing as the weight of revelation settled over her like a heavy cloak. The shad

tone. "She was your aunt's ward. No one really knew where she came

didn't it?" Zara pressed, ur

ng as memories flickered in her eyes. "Your aunt wa

diary onto the polished table bet

o the diary, her face a m

sisted, her voice rising.

barely a whisper. "Some truths are buried because the

tion bubbling to the surface. "But don'

ned with unshed tears, reflecting a lifetime of unspoken guilt.

had carried a shadow of guilt for years, a

g as she gathered her thoughts. The dim light of the room cast soft shadows across her face, highlighting the lines of worry etched there. With the promise of tru