The dairy that shouldn’t exist

The sun in the morning filtered through the lavender curtains as if nothing had been different.

But Aira knew better.

The quiet of the room seemed manufactured, like an expertly staged scene poised to collapse.

Her gaze wandered to the diary on her bedside table. It was open, the pen resting across the page exactly where she'd left it… or at least, that's the way it appeared.

But Aira's mind was keen — sharper than it had ever been.

That entry was different.

The ink was dry… too freshly.

And she never underlined that sentence.

Someone had read it.

Someone had written on it.

Before she could think more, there came a voice she knew in the silence.

"Aira?" Stepped into the room Mira, carrying a tray of tea and toast, her eyes shining with a combination of relief and nerves. "You're awake… you have no idea how terrified we were."

Aira forced a small smile, her voice even. "Two weeks is a long time to sleep."

Mira laughed too hastily. "You fainted. The doctor said it was stress and low BP. Perhaps the heat at Selene's party…"

Aira cocked her head slightly. "What party?"

Mira's smile dropped. "Selene's birthday. Remember?"

Selene. The one who always kept to the background. Quiet. Observant.

"I thought she was traveling out of town that week," Aira said, taking the tea.

Mira blinked. "No, she switched plans at the last minute. You were there. You wore that peach-colored dress—"

Aira let her go on.

But in her head, a box opened.

She had never worn peach.

That night, flowers came. White lilies and moon orchids — her favorites.

Selene sent them.

Too specific. Too perfect.

And then the door closed softly again.

Eryan arrived, balancing a pile of books on one arm and the small velvet pouch in the other.

"I figured you don't like resting," he said gently, smiling, "so I brought distractions."

Aira's breath caught, not suspicion, but memory.

His arrival was always this way. It was warm. Stable. Consistent.

He perched on the end of her bed, taking care not to overwhelm her. "I made the call to the doctor myself. You're healing fine. But you still look pale."

His fingers grazed her wrist — taking her pulse, like he used to.

"You always worry too much," she breathed, attempting to keep her defenses in place.

He looked into her eyes. "I'm entitled to. You're the only person in this whole house who makes any sense.

Her walls cracked a little.

Because this… this felt real.

Too real.

Eryan stood up and put the pouch on her desk. "The necklace you lost at the party. I found it in the car under the seat."

Her fingers brushed the pouch. It was hers — the locket she hadn't seen in years.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Aira,” he said quietly, “but I’m here. Whatever it is… I’ll protect you.”

She nodded, trying to breathe past the knot in her throat.

If he was lying, he was the best liar she had ever known.

But her instincts… still trusted him.