Elena felt a gentle hand tuck the blanket around her, securing her from the night’s chill. Surprised, she opened her eyes slightly to a sliver of moonlight illuminating the room. Mr. Hugo lay on his back, maintaining a respectful distance, his breathing steady and calm. She could see the outline of his face, serene and distant, as if lost in thought.
As the hours passed, Elena drifted into a fitful sleep, her mind a mix of apprehension and curiosity. Her dreams were fragmented, filled with the voices of her past, the hum of factory machines, and images of her grandmother smiling.
When morning arrived, Elena awoke to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. Her eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft light of dawn streaming through the curtains. She turned her head cautiously to find Mr. Hugo’s side of the bed empty. Panic momentarily gripped her; perhaps he had left in the early hours, leaving a note with instructions or expectations.
