?Chapter 1544:


    Ste climbed out of the car, waved goodbye to Sharon and Josie, and headed into the vi.


    When Tasha spotted her, she hurried forward with a weing smile. “Ms. Russell, you are back. Have you eaten dinner yet? Mr. Briggs is in the study — would you like me to call him down?”


    Ste’s hand shot out to catch Tasha’s wrist, nervousness flickering across her face. “No, do not disturb him. I will just head up to my room.” She had had a good day. Missing one dinner with William meant nothing, and she refused to let him ruin the mood she had worked so hard to hold onto.


    She climbed the stairs, but her steps faltered as she passed the study. The heavy wooden door stood closed, and no sound came from within. She lingered for several seconds before continuing quietly to her room.


    Moments after her door clicked shut, the study door swung open.


    William stood in the doorway, his gaze locked on the door she had just closed. A storm of emotions churned behind his eyes before finally settling into something dark and unreadable.


    She had actuallye back.


    She had not tried to escape. She had not manufactured excuses to dy her return. She had not sought him out and put on a show ofpliance to lower his guard. She had simply acted as though she had been out with friends and, when the time came, had naturallye home.


    The word home made William go still.


    Had he truly begun thinking of this ce as their home — his and Ste’s?


    A harsh, sardonicugh escaped his lips. He retreated into the study and pulled the door shut behind him, as though he could close out the implications along with it — as though he neither knew nor cared that she had returned.


    In the days that followed, William began leaving early and returningte, sometimes disappearing for an entire day withouting home at all. The sprawling vi became Ste’s domain once more, upied only by her and a handful of servants.


    The pattern was not new. She had weed his absence before — it meant freedom from his cold indifference, relief from the constant vignce of watching every word. It meant not having to brace herself for another cutting remark.


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    But this time, for reasons she could not quite identify, the vi felt unbearably empty and silent.


    Even with Tasha and the other servants moving through the halls, loneliness pressed down on Ste like a physical weight. Sharon and Josie came to keep herpany when they could, but not every day — and since they were not permitted inside, they could only speak to her through the gate. That arrangement filled Ste with a constant, quiet guilt. She hated making them stand out there on her ount. So even though they lived right next door and wanted to be there every day, she insisted they did not have toe.


    When they were not around, Ste had nothing to do but sink into the sofa and stare at the television. Laughter and cheerful noise poured from the speakers, but none of it reached her. During the day, sunlight flooded through the massive windows and bathed the room in golden warmth, yet Ste wrapped herself in long sleeves and trousers, a persistent chill clinging to her skin. No matter which room she upied, the silence grew so profound she could hear every beat of her own heart, every shallow breath.


    The servants had their duties and could not spend the day keeping herpany. She found unread books in William’s study, but she could not focus for more than a few pages before her eyes grew tired and her thoughts drifted. Television failed to hold her attention. Reading proved equally futile. She even tried following craft videos — needlework, origami — but nothing could fill the expanding emptiness in her chest, and destion crept deeper with each passing hour.


    Eventually, she simply copsed against the sofa cushions, sighing again and again, her eyes dull and lifeless.


    Tasha observed all of this in worried silence. She prepared afternoon tea and carried it to the living room, only to find Ste seated by the window again. The booky open in herp, but her gaze was vacant, fixed on the emeraldwn stretching across the garden. The page had not turned in at least twenty minutes.


    Tasha approached carefully and set a delicate porcin cup beside Ste’s hand, keeping her voice soft. “Ms. Russell, I have brought you a new herbal tea. It should help you rx.”


    Ste blinked, awareness returning to her eyes, and offered Tasha a wan smile. “Thank you, Tasha.”


    She nced at the steaming cup but could not summon the energy to lift it. Within seconds, her gaze had drifted back to thewn, vacant once more.


    Tasha hesitated, torn between leaving and staying. Finally, she spoke. “Ms. Russell, have you been feeling restlesstely? Being confined to the vi like this…” Extended istion could drag anyone down into mncholy — especially in Ste’s situation, trapped here against her will.


    Ste lowered hershes, her fingertips unconsciously tightening on the book’s edges. “It is fine. I am getting used to it.” She paused, then added in a near whisper, “After all, I am not allowed to leave.”


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