ORLANDA walked out of her room and headed straight for Oswald’s the very next day. Her heart beat fast, but her steps were firm. She reached his door and knocked gently. This same door that was forbidden for her to knock on, forbidden for her to stare at, forbidden for her to trespass. There she stood, knocking.

“Open,” his voice rang from inside.

She turned the knob and stepped in. It was open, for once.

Oswald was lying on his bed when she knocked, but the moment he saw her step in, he sat up immediately, then got off the bed in a hurry.

“Orlanda, it is you,” he said,...