Later that evening, the house is quieter. The sounds of clinking dishes and soft murmurs have long faded into the background, and the house is finally at peace. Mrs. Rodrigues finishes her nightly routine, her footsteps soft on the wooden floor as she moves down the hall.
She pauses in front of Vanessa's bedroom door, taking a moment to steady herself. Her hand lingers on the doorknob, fingers brushing lightly against the cold metal. She hesitates, as if unsure whether to knock or simply enter. After a beat, she pushes the door open quietly.
Vanessa's room is dimly lit by the soft glow of a night lamp, casting long shadows across the floor. The bed is neatly made, but the covers are pulled up high, concealing the figure beneath.
