THE NIGHT WE FELL

CHAPTER THREE

ZEPHYR

The sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway makes me sit upright. As Alda drives into the unfamiliar compound, I fix my eyes on the magnificent house that comes into view. It’s unlike any I’ve ever been in. It stands tall, like something out of a movie.

The huge building is made of elegant stone and glass. Its front porch has hanging lanterns that cast a warm amber light onto the steps, while two big columns frame the entrance, giving the house a grand yet welcoming look.

Alda pauses for a moment, allowing me time to take in the details. Lights hang on every wall, some are lined along the pavements and in the perfectly trimmed lawns. Flower beds dot the yard, showcasing the care of a good gardener.

“Wow,” I say, barely loud enough to hear over the engine. Alda glances at me, smiling knowingly.

“It’s something, isn’t it?” she asks.

“Yeah,” I reply, my eyes wide.

As she continues driving slowly around the house, I can’t help but feel a little out of place. This house is so different from any I’ve ever lived in, which have always felt practical, not beautiful.

Alda nods, sensing my feelings. “It’s a lot to take in,” she says.

We pass a small fountain that burbles softly, its gentle sound breaking the night’s quiet. The driveway curves around to the back of the house, where the lights are softer. A smaller building comes into view, nestled against the large main house—the boys' quarter.

It’s not as fancy but has a warm charm, made of weathered wood and stone that blend well with the surroundings. As Alda turns off the ignition, some of my worries fade away. I don’t think I would have accepted spending a night in that enormous mansion.

A small porch welcomes us, with a couple of rocking chairs that seem perfect for lazy afternoons spent watching the world go by.

“Not as fancy as the main house,” Alda says as she steps out and stretches her legs, “but it feels homey.”

I open my door and step outside, the cool air wrapping around me like a blanket. I look at the boys' quarter, noticing the warm light spilling from the windows, filling the shadows. It feels safe, a nice change from the grand house we just passed.

“I could get used to this,” I say, taking a deep breath and glancing back at the main house, its lights twinkling against the dark sky. I wonder who lives inside. If Alda doesn’t bring it up, I’ll ask.

“Let’s get settled,” Alda says with a reassuring smile as she heads toward the entrance of the boys' quarter. I follow closely behind, and once we go through the doors, exhaustion washes over me, but the cozy ambiance of the room immediately makes me feel better.

The room is fully furnished with plush sofas and sturdy wooden chairs. A small table in the center holds a puzzle set. A shelf is adorned with books of every size and color. I like this place already.

Alda glances back at me with a smile. “Go take a bath while I bring in the bags,” she says, showing me the door that leads to the rest of the house. I nod, grateful for the moment to myself, and head toward the door.

The bedroom feels like a sanctuary—luxurious yet welcoming. I take a deep breath, smiling at the cozy environment around me. I run my fingers along the edge of the bed, feeling the soft fabric, and I know this will be a good place to stay.

I open a door and see that it leads to a spacious bathroom. I take in the clean, white tiles. I pick one of the fluffy towels hanging neatly on the rack and head to a large mirror that stretches across one wall, reflecting the light and making the room feel even bigger. My own reflection makes me wince.

I turn on the faucet, and warm water fills the tub, steam rising gently and filling the air. As I undress, I admire the small touches around the bathroom—a potted plant by the window, the subtle scent of lavender soap, and the soft bath mat under my feet.

I sink into the warm water, letting it wash away the weariness from my long day. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, feeling the warmth seep into my muscles. Yet, I’m reminded again that I don’t quite belong here. I ignore that little voice for now.

After a few moments, I stand up, rinse off, and wrap myself in the plush towel. I step back into the room to find my bags neatly placed on the bed. Each one reminds me of my life before this moment, the stress I underwent earlier, the tears.

A look at Alda fills me with hope. I walk to her and place my hands in hers. She gives me a broad smile, silently reassuring me that all will be fine. I nod, choosing to believe. At least, for tonight.

Alda helps me dry my hair, and afterwards, I pick out something to wear—a simple matching set. As I change into my comfortable nightwear, I struggle to stay awake. Alda jokes that I’ll freeze to death, but I point at the thick duvet at the foot of the bed, and she laughs.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home,” she says, settling into bed. I crawl in beside her and snuggle up to her. She hugs me, running her hand through my hair.

“Speaking of home, whose place is this?”

Just as she opens her mouth to speak, her phone rings. She turns it to me, and I wave her away. It’s her boyfriend. He’s probably worried since it’s getting late.

I listen as she explains the situation to him, but the words fade into the background as I succumb to sleep. The next time I wake up, Alda is telling me something about details through text. I just agree to everything so she can leave me alone; I need to resume my sleep.

When she eventually does, I lie awake for some time. I wonder if I should allow myself to get comfortable in this bed. Who owns it? I can’t help but feel like I don’t deserve any of this, like this is the calm before a storm.

In fact, I get my answer first thing in the morning, in a way I would never have imagined.