Chapter 81: A Stir in the Quiet

Chapter 81: A Stir in the Quiet
Melissa, who had told herself the night before to stay on guard, slowly blinked awake, confused for a moment by the light seeping through the curtains. Her mind, still foggy with sleep, took a second to process where she was. She was still in the sitting position she had fallen asleep in, back slightly hunched, the blanket barely covering her legs.

"I can't believe I fell asleep like this," she mumbled groggily, rubbing her eyes as she yawned. Her mouth was dry, and her limbs were stiff from staying in the same position all night. As she rolled her neck to the side, a loud crack echoed in the quiet room.

"Ouch—my neck," she winced, pressing into the sore spot with her fingers. The discomfort made her eyes squint, but she tried to massage the pain away.

She stood up slowly, letting her feet touch the cool floor, and stretched, arms raised above her head. Her muscles ached slightly, but it helped. She walked over to the door and paused, listening. Downstairs, she could hear soft clattering—mugs clinking, cutlery shifting—and faint voices. Her mother and Victor were already up, going about their morning routine like nothing had happened.

She padded down the stairs in her slippers, the memory of last night coming back to her more clearly now. That sound. That metallic click.

"Didn’t you guys hear the gate open around 2am?" she asked casually, hoping they wouldn’t brush it off like a dream.

Her mother looked up from her tea, puzzled. "Gate? No, I didn’t hear anything. How did it open?"

Victor raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you’re sure it was our gate?"

"I'm sure of it," Melissa said, settling on the couch. "I was half asleep, but the sound woke me. I checked your rooms—you were both fast asleep. I turned on the outside light and everything, but I didn't see anyone."

"You must’ve been dreaming," Mrs. Wright replied, her brow furrowed. She seemed concerned but not alarmed. "I locked the gate myself last night. Same as always. And the front door too. Nobody went out again after bedtime."

Melissa didn’t argue, but her face showed she wasn’t convinced. Her lips pressed together slightly as she walked into the kitchen. "Hmm… I still don’t think I was wrong," she said quietly, reaching for a clean glass and pouring herself some water from the jug.

Her mother and Victor exchanged glances but didn’t say anything more. They'd learned that sometimes it was better to let Melissa hold on to her certainty than to argue with her over moments that couldn’t be proven either way. She had always been sensitive to things, observant in ways that others overlooked.

Meanwhile, at the Joe’s residence, Lydia was already up, humming to herself softly as she rummaged through her wardrobe. Her voice, light and breathy, filled the room with an almost surreal warmth. She hadn't felt this hopeful in days. There was a noticeable lightness in her body, a quiet joy that made her want to dress up and look nice—even if it was just for a hospital visit. But today was a special visit.

Her room door cracked open without warning. Julia walked in, arms folded. "Why didn’t you knock?" Lydia asked, barely looking up from the hangers.

"Why should I knock? It’s just the two of us at home," Julia replied, strolling in like she owned the place, her steps easy and confident.

Lydia sighed and let it go. There was no use arguing with Julia over personal space—she never won those arguments anyway. Julia always had a way of asserting herself into any room.

Julia flopped onto the bed and looked around. "What’s going on here?" she asked, pointing to the pile of clothes scattered across the chair.

"I’m trying to pick a dress," Lydia said, still flipping through hangers, her fingers brushing across fabrics as she hesitated at each one.

"Someone’s trying to look sexy for Dennis," Julia teased with a smirk. "You know you’ve missed a lot of school lately. Won’t that affect your grades?"

Lydia shrugged. "Not really. I’ll get notes from my friends. Most lecturers don’t even care if you show up—just pass their exams and you’re fine." She sounded confident, but there was a hint of uncertainty buried beneath.

Julia didn’t argue. She just watched as her sister pulled out a pale blue dress with lace trim. Lydia held it up against her body and turned toward the mirror, tilting her head as she examined the fit and color.

"I never even wore this one," she said, her eyes lighting up with a spark Julia hadn’t seen in weeks. "Mom bought it for me last month."

She stepped into it and twirled, facing Julia. "This is nice, right?"

Julia gave a small nod. "It’s nice," she said, before getting up to leave the room. She didn’t say much else, but she knew Lydia was excited. It was the most life she’d seen in her sister in a while.

After taking a quick shower, Lydia got dressed properly and walked over to the perfume box Dennis had gifted her before his surgery. She opened the box gently, like it was a treasure chest, and picked out one of the bottles. The glass was tinted light pink with a golden cap. She sprayed more than necessary, coughing slightly as the scent overwhelmed her senses.

She didn’t care. She just wanted Dennis to know she’d been thinking of him. That she was using the gift he gave her. That he mattered.

She tried to style her hair differently—curling the front, parting it to the side—but nothing came out right. Strands kept falling in the wrong place, and eventually, she gave up and pulled it back into a ponytail.

As she stepped into the living room, she saw Julia already dressed in a bold red gown, her makeup lightly done. Julia was on her way to school. Lydia admired how put-together her sister looked, but she didn’t say it out loud. She rarely did.

They both locked the house and stepped outside.

"Bye," Julia said simply, adjusting her bag on her shoulder.

"Bye," Lydia replied, walking in the opposite direction toward the hospital, her steps more purposeful than they had been in days.

Across town, Mr. and Mrs. James were still at the hospital, taking turns watching Dennis, who was still unconscious but stable. Machines beeped rhythmically beside his bed. A nurse had come in earlier to check his vitals, assuring them again that everything was going as expected.

Back at the Wright residence, Melissa sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone. The strange sound of the gate still haunted her. She didn’t believe it was her imagination, but there wasn’t much she could do about it now.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—had been outside that night.

For now, she tucked it away at the back of her mind. She had classes soon and needed to get ready. But as she opened her wardrobe, her eyes drifted toward the window again.

Something just didn’t feel right.