Carly slept deeply, the kind of sleep that comes only when exhaustion finally loosens its grip. The room was quiet, filled with the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint glow of a bedside lamp Jeremiah had left on, just in case she woke up afraid of the dark.
Jeremiah stood by the door for a moment, watching her chest rise and fall steadily. He sighed softly, not out of frustration, but concern.
"She's been through too much," he murmured to himself.
He pulled the door almost shut, leaving it slightly open, then walked down the hallway. In the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter, his thoughts restless. He wondered how someone so young could carry so much pain and still manage to smile.
After a while, he picked up his phone and sent a short message to his housekeeper.
> Please prepare one of the guest rooms fully tomorrow. We have a guest staying for a while.
He paused, then added:
> And make something warm for breakfast.
---
Carly stirred sometime later.
At first, she didn't recognize where she was. The bed was too soft, the air too calm. Panic fluttered briefly in her chest until the memories returned—Jeremiah, the house, his kindness.
She sat up slowly and looked around. The room was beautiful but peaceful, not intimidating. There was a glass of water on the bedside table and neatly folded clothes placed on a chair.
"For me?" she whispered.
Her eyes burned slightly, but this time the tears didn't fall. Instead, she felt something unfamiliar—safety.
She wrapped the blanket around herself and lay back down, staring at the ceiling.
"Maybe… maybe my life can change," she thought.
---
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the curtains. Carly woke up feeling lighter, though her body still ached. She slowly got out of bed and opened the door.
Almost immediately, she heard footsteps.
"Good morning," Jeremiah said warmly from the hallway.
She froze for a second, then smiled shyly. "Good morning."
"Did you sleep well?" he asked.
She nodded. "Very well. I haven't slept like that in a long time."
"That's good," he said gently. "Breakfast is ready whenever you are. No rush."
Carly hesitated. "Jeremiah… I don't know how to thank you."
He shook his head softly. "You don't have to. Just focus on getting better. That's enough for me."
She looked at him, truly looked at him, and realized something important—not everyone in the world was cruel. Some people cared without asking for anything in return.
As she followed him toward the dining room, Carly didn't know what the future held. But for the first time in a long while, she felt hope walking beside her.