When Clara entered Charlotte's room, it was pitch dark.
The curtains, which should have been drawn open to let the morning light stream in, were tightly shut —sealing the room in an unnatural gloom. The air itself felt heavy… almost suffocating, as if it had been left undisturbed for far too long.
"Mom …" Clara called out softly, her gaze sweeping across the room. "Are you here??"
At first ... there was no response.
Only plain silence.
Then ... as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness —she noticed a faint silhouette lying on the bed.
"Mom …"
She called again, a little louder this time.
Still, nothing.
Clara's brows furrowed slightly. A faint unease crept into her chest.
Without waiting any longer, she walked over to the window and pulled the curtains apart.
The moment she did, sunlight flooded into the room —harsh and sudden —chasing away the darkness in an instant.
She turned toward the bed—
And finally saw her mother clearly.
