Martha didn't like silence.
She was just a maid, barely noticed by nobles, but she knew how to listen—and how to feel when something was wrong.
Lady Sophie's room had been untouched for days.
No laundry.
No orders.
No visitors.
And no scent of life.
Martha stepped inside quietly, broom in hand. Dust had already begun to settle.
On the nightstand, a small birch box rested, wrapped in silver linen.
Curious, Martha untied it.
Inside: three sealed letters.
A faded vinyl record.
The label read: *Moonhowl Lullaby.*
Her brows knit. She walked over to the corner gramophone, the one no one used anymore.
The record wobbled slightly as it began to spin.
Then the music played.
Soft. Ethereal. Haunting.
The first notes trickled through the room like water from a forgotten spring.
Mart
