On the way home, Master Alex was cold and didn’t look at me even once. I wanted so badly to talk to him—to apologize again, to ask about Ada, anything at all. His coldness was killing me, slowly wearing me down, eating away at me from the inside.
When we got home, Master Alex went to his room without saying a word.
The next morning, when I woke up and asked about him, I was told he had already left. The day dragged on endlessly, every minute stretching unbearably long. I was sure that when he came back for dinner, we would finally talk.
But he didn’t come.
What is happening? Is this how he’s punishing me?
It was late at night when I heard footsteps on the stairs—slow, heavy, deliberate. My heart skipped. I stepped into the corridor and saw him.
“Master Alex… you’re back,” I said timi
