I made my way to my bed, the weight of the day finally catching up to me, settling on my shoulders like a velvet cloak. The air in the room was hushed, warm, and familiar, carrying the faint scent of vender from the sachets tucked into the linen drawers.

  Jane and Cecil moved quietly, gracefully as ever, tidying up the room with practiced ease. Jane adjusted the curtains just enough to let a sliver of moonlight peek through, while Cecil gathered the day’s scattered belongings—folding a shawl, smoothing the vanity cloth, aligning the slippers by the rug’s edge.

  Once everything was in pce, Jane dimmed the lights, casting the room in a soft golden glow that flickered gently across the walls. A calm stillness embraced the space like a lulby. She then approached my bedside, gently pulling the bnkets over me, her touch light but tender as she tucked me in snugly.

  “Good night, and sweet dreams, young dy,” Jane whispered, her voice as soft as a feather drifting on air.

  Cecil stepped beside her and gave me a small smile. “Good night, young dy,” she echoed in her usual gentle tone, before both quietly excused themselves and left the room, closing the door with a quiet click behind them.

  I closed my eyes, the warmth of the covers cocooning me. My body slowly sank into the mattress as my thoughts, once tangled and restless, began to settle like leaves floating down a calm stream. Despite the whirlwind of emotions and the strange turns the day had taken, I felt a quiet sense of gratitude—for this moment, this room, these people who cared for me.

  And with that thought, I let sleep take me, like a soft tide pulling me into dreams.

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