A Room without windows
653 Words
The days passed slowly in the Moore estate, where smiles were rehearsed and walls listened. Aurora quickly learned how to navigate the silence—how to nod at Mrs. Moore without flinching, how to smile politely when Mr. Moore listed rules masked as expectations, and how to answer Grandfather Moore with just the right amount of strength.
But it was Adrian who remained the most complicated.
He kept to himself, spending hours in his study with the door half-closed—open enough to say “I don’t care,” but closed enough to say “Don’t try me.”
That morning, Aurora found a note slid under her door.
> If you’re not too busy playing hostess to your stepsister, join me in the south library.
– A
It wasn’t an invitation. It was a challenge.
She found him in the south wing, beneath stained-glass windows that painted the marble floors in deep reds and blues. Adrian was surrounded by books, some open, some stacked, and a steaming cup of black coffee at his elbow.
“Didn’t think you’d show,” he said without looking up.
“I almost didn’t,” Aurora replied. “But then I remembered I live here now.”
Adrian closed the book in his hand and looked up. “You really think you can handle this place, don’t you?”
“I have no choice.”
He studied her, tapping a pen against the edge of the desk. “Most people who come into this house end up losing themselves. My mother became a shell. My father became a puppet. And me—well—”
“You became a prisoner,” she finished softly.
He blinked, surprised. “Is that what you think?”
She walked over to the bookshelves, tracing her fingers along the spines. “You stay in this room like it’s safer than facing the world. Like these walls protect you. But they don’t. They trap you.”
Adrian was silent.
Then, with a bitter smile, he said, “And what do you know about being trapped, Aurora?”
She turned, meeting his eyes. “Everything.”
He didn’t look away this time.
They sat in silence after that, the kind that wasn’t empty, but honest. Aurora read from one of his books while Adrian made quiet notes in his journal. The space between them didn’t shrink, but it wasn’t as cold anymore.
Later, as Aurora rose to leave, he surprised her.
“You can come here whenever you want,” he said, almost too casually. “Most people are scared of this room.”
She paused in the doorway. “Then maybe they never took the time to open the windows.”
---
That evening, during dinner, Veronica called.
Aurora sat in her room with the phone pressed to her ear, listening to her stepmother’s poisonous concern.
“Lila tells me the Moores are... tolerating you,” she said sweetly.
“I’m adjusting.”
“Don’t forget who you are, Aurora. Don’t let their money make you believe you’re more than you are.”
Aurora’s voice was calm. “And who do you think I am, Veronica?”
“A girl who got lucky. Don’t mistake that for power.”
Aurora smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “If I’m so forgettable, why are you calling me?”
Silence.
Then a forced laugh. “Keep that mouth sharp, dear. You’ll need it.”
She hung up without saying goodbye.
---
Down the hall, Adrian sat at his window, staring out at the courtyard below. He’d overheard bits of the conversation. He didn’t need the details—he recognized the voice of manipulation when he heard it.
For the first time in years, he didn’t feel alone in this house.
There was someone else now…
Someone who knew what it meant to live in a room without windows.
---
End of Chapter Four
- Writer
