Cyril
The manor felt alive in a way it hadn’t in months. The echo of our footsteps against the polished floors wasn’t lonely anymore; it was a rhythm, a heartbeat that carried both Cyril and me forward. I could feel her hand in mine as we moved through the hallways, and each step reminded me of the emptiness that had existed before she returned.
We reached the library, and I paused, letting Cyril take in the room. Tall shelves lined the walls, filled with volumes that I had once thought she’d never care to read. Yet, now that she was here, I realized how much I wanted her to claim this space as her own.
“You remember this room?” I asked quietly, my voice low so it wouldn’t startle her.
She nodded, her eyes scanning the familiar spines. “I do. I remember trying to climb the shelves when
