SOFIA
The house didn’t return to normal. It was a subtle, wordless adjustment, but the weight of it settled into the floorboards and the cold air of the hallways almost immediately.
Before this, "normal" had meant a structured kind of freedom. There was a predictable rhythm to the days, measured pacing, controlled movements, and a hidden system that worked so seamlessly it almost felt complete, even when I knew it was all an illusion.
This new reality was much tighter. It was faster, sharper, and altogether less forgiving. There was no longer any breathing room between an action and its response. There was no quiet delay to let me process what was happening before the walls closed in to correct it.
By the time I was escorted back to my room, the very layout of the corridors seemed to h
