The room felt silent for a moment, no one speaking.
Lily was shocked to hear such a loud voice, which she immediately registered in her mind as the little girl's voice — the same girl who had been unconscious only a second ago, with nothing but her fingers moving.
Likewise, her father was too. Gabriel stood at the door, gaping at the girl who had just woken up, his hand still frozen on the wooden frame as if he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.
The girl was panting, sweat pouring down her temple, her hands still trembling as she grasped the sheets tightly in her fists. Her eyes stared ahead of her, but they looked transparent, distant — as if she wasn't truly gazing at them, but at something else entirely. Something she was desperately trying to find.
Breaking the unsettling silence, Gabriel turned to Lily, snapping out of his shock.
"I will bring Aunt Mary here while you watch the girl till I come."
"Yes, I will do it!" Lily said, suddenly feeling a great responsibility fall onto her shoulders.
As Gabriel left the room and hurried outside, the girl tried to speak once more but couldn't, her throat tightening painfully. Her attention slowly shifted toward the other figure moving closer to her.
The figure came nearer, becoming clearer now that the face was only an arm's length away. At that distance, she noticed the long blond hair braided to the side. Then she noticed the brown eyes, opened slightly wide with worry and curiosity.
"Hi, I am Lily. Nice to meet you. The one that went outside is my father. He will bring Aunt Mary back so she can check if you are okay."
The girl couldn't fully take in everything Lily said as she spoke quickly, the words tumbling out one after another. But she did understand her name.
The girl watched as Lily's gaze slowly dropped, the look in her eyes changing.
"And... don't worry," Lily said, the hurt look in her eyes still remaining. "Aunt Mary is going to cure your... hurt hand soon. She is really good at these things."
At that, the girl looked down to where Lily's gaze remained — her left hand.
A shape that absolutely didn't belong to something meant to be called a hand.
Her fingers twisted backward, her wrist curved unnaturally to the side, colored in black, purple, and deep blue bruises spreading beneath the skin.
And that was the moment the pain finally registered in her mind.
A sharp, burning pain.
Her breath hitched violently as agony rushed through her arm all at once.
*
Outside, the sky had turned orange, a hollow golden light stretching across the village.
It was the kind of evening that silently told every child playing outside that it was time to go home.
Children slowly headed back as their parents called them in for dinner and evening chores, their voices echoing through the dirt paths and small houses.
And so it was time for Aster to head home too, as one by one his group of friends disappeared until only him and one other friend remained at the corner.
"Uh, I really don't want to head back now." James, Aster's friend, kicked a rock with his hands shoved into his trousers pockets.
"Yeah, me too. Why are parents all so controlling?" Aster said as he crouched to the ground, eyeing the marbles they had been playing with a while ago.
"I bet your dad is furious right now. You should be going," James continued. "Though I wonder, by this time he would probably be pulling your ear and dragging you toward your house."
At the memory, James cracked out a laugh, trying to suppress it.
"Yeah, funny you think." Aster eyed James with annoyance as memories of being embarrassed in front of his friends after staying out too late came rushing back.
But then again, his father was late today to drag him home. And honestly, Aster was more than happy about that. At least his father wasn't outside seeing the girl in such a terrible condition.
"So you said the girl won't stay with you?" James asked, lowering his voice slightly.
"No... she won't," Aster answered, though he didn't sound certain of his own response.
The kids had been teasing him all day about the girl. She had done nothing to deserve the things people were saying about her, and he knew that well enough — but he also knew he couldn't admit that in front of anyone.
"Yeah, she better not. I heard my mom saying that the girl was the one who brought the storm with her."
Aster didn't respond to that.
The entire day had passed with the same conversation repeating itself over and over again, and he was already sick of hearing it.
"...James."
"I s-said, YOU COME HERE RIGHT NOW!"
Startled by the sudden yell, both James and Aster turned toward the sound.
It was a middle-aged lady.
James' mother.
Scary as always, Aster thought.
"Oh God... Aster, bye now. Need to go."
James waved hurriedly before running toward Mrs. Piclson.
Aster lifted a hand back, silently wishing James good luck, because from the sound of his mother's voice, things did not seem welcoming at all.
And so Aster looked back toward the sky as it finally darkened completely, wondering where exactly his father had gone for so long.
Then suddenly, his eyes caught sight of two figures running toward his home.
One was his father.
And the other—
Aunt Mary?
"What's Aunt Mary doing there?"
Aster hurriedly collected the marbles before quickly heading home.
*
"What's that sound?" an old lady's voice spoke from outside, aged yet still strong.
"It's her, Auntie Mary!" Lily sounded panicked as she pointed toward the little girl on the bed crying while clutching her injured left hand.
Aunt Mary was an old woman with silver hair tied into a loose braid resting over her shoulder. Wrinkles lined her face deeply, yet her sharp dark eyes still carried a strange strength to them. She wore a long faded brown dress with a thick shawl wrapped around her shoulders, smelling faintly of herbs and smoke.
"Oh my... it looks really bad. Let me look at it."
Hurriedly, Aunt Mary crouched beside the girl and stretched her hands forward to examine the injury.
Gabriel quietly moved closer to the bedside as well, gently pulling the blanket away from the girl's arm so Aunt Mary could see better. His expression tightened the moment the bruised hand became fully visible under the light.
The girl flinched violently as the pain surged through her arm.
Not bothered by the girl's cries, Aunt Mary continued her examination, carefully touching different parts of the injury. Every touch brought another sharp wince, another cry escaping from the girl's mouth.
And so Aunt Mary then eyed her knee too.
"That will take longer work," she muttered quietly.
Continuing the examination, the girl's cries only grew louder than before.
At that, Lily began sobbing, her nose watering as tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Does it hurt so much...?" Lily asked between small cries, turning toward her father, unable to continue watching what unfolded in front of her.
Gabriel gently pulled Lily closer to his side, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"No, darling," he said softly, trying to sound certain. "She is strong. She can handle it."
But even through his calm voice, it was clear that the little girl's cries had already broken something inside his heart.
At the front door, Aster suddenly appeared between cut breaths.
"What happened?" Aster questioned his sister from the doorway.
But Lily only covered her ears tightly with her fingers, trying not to hear the cries coming from inside the room.
Gabriel turned toward his son.
"Lower your voice," he said quietly. "Aunt Mary is helping her."
And so Aster finally looked toward the bed properly.
The girl was awake.
Her face was pale, her eyes wet with tears as Aunt Mary worked on her injured hand.
The injured hand.
It was painful to even look at it, Aster thought.
"Will she be okay?" Aster asked his father quietly.
Gabriel stayed silent for a moment before answering.
"I hope she will."
After several more cries and painful screams, Aunt Mary finally turned toward the family standing at the far end of the room and looked at them with warm eyes.
"Come now, kids. She's fine."
Then she turned toward Gabriel.
"Don't worry. I put some herbs on the injured places, and her bones seemed twisted at some points, though I straightened them using wood support. Change the cloth daily with a clean one if you can, and apply this herb each time you do."
Gabriel nodded carefully, taking in every word.
Aunt Mary then turned toward the girl once more.
"You did great holding the pain," she said warmly. "It will take time until your hand heals... and these other injuries too."
Standing up slowly, Aunt Mary walked toward the door before stopping one last time beside Gabriel.
"Whatever happened to this child," she said quietly enough for only him to hear, "it was not something small."
Gabriel's expression darkened slightly, but he said nothing.
And so the door finally closed.
Silence slowly returned to the room once more.
Only this time, it was no longer the silence of fear.
The little girl was finally awake.