The hallway stretched ahead of me, dimly lit, silent except for the sound of our footsteps. I walked behind him.
I was too tired to think. Too numb to hope.
Eventually, we reached a familiar door.
His room.
He turned and looked at me, expression unreadable.
“Stop outside.”
His tone was low, not cruel, just… commanding.
I stood by the door as he walked in and closed it behind him. The silence was thick. I could hear faint movements — drawers being opened, keys clinking, the rustle of fabric. I waited, not leaning on the wall, afraid he might see and think I was slacking off. My hands hung uselessly by my sides.
Moments later, the door opened again.
He stepped out, holding a key in his hand, his expression still unreadable. Without a word, he turned and began walking again — but thi
