THE early morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the walls of Oswald's mansion. Orlanda lay curled up in her bed, her body trembling under the thin blanket. Her mind replayed the events of the previous night over and over again, leaving her feeling hollow. She had cried herself to sleep, and now her eyes burned with the weight of unspent tears.

A knock on the door startled her. She sat up quickly, wiping at her swollen eyes. Before she could say anything, the door opened, and Oswald stepped inside. His tall figure stood in the doorway, the usual coldness on his face absent. He was...