Not being able to talk is a strange kind of pain.
Most people think silence is peaceful.
It isn't.
Silence is heavy.
It presses against your chest until it feels hard to breathe.
Whenever I'm scared, I usually sing my mommy's song.
It's the only song we ever sang together.
Whenever the world felt too big, she would hum it softly and pull me close.
Sometimes, she forgot the words halfway through and started laughing.
But we always finished the song together.
Now I couldn't sing it anymore.
I could only hear it inside my head.
And somehow, that made everything worse.
Because the song reminded me of my mommy.
And my mommy wasn't here.
I hadn't seen her in days.
No one told me where she was.
No one told me if she had woken up.
The man who brought me to the hospital disappeared after the doctors spoke to him.
The nurses came and went.
Doctors checked my heartbeat and my temperature.
But none of them told me anything about my mommy.
I felt like a small bird trapped in a cage.
I didn't know what to do.
I couldn't call anyone.
I didn't know anyone's number.
Our neighbours hated us.
They always called my mommy terrible names.
So I knew they wouldn't help me.
And now I didn't even have a voice.
I sat on the hospital bed and hugged my knees.
The room felt too big.
Too empty.
Too quiet.
Then the door opened.
The man came back.
"What's wrong with the girl?" he asked the doctor.
"She still can't speak," the doctor replied.
They talked for a moment.
I watched them carefully.
Sometimes, adults forget that children are listening.
The doctor explained that my vocal cords weren't damaged permanently.
"They're strained," she said. "It's probably trauma."
The man frowned.
"How long will it last?"
"A few days," the doctor said.
"Maybe a week."
A week.
The word hit me like something heavy.
A whole week without speaking.
A whole week without calling my mommy.
I wanted to scream.
But nothing came out.
The man walked closer to my bed.
He crouched down so our eyes were at the same level.
"Hello, little girl," he said gently.
"What's your name?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing.
He waited patiently.
Then he asked another question.
"Do you know where you live?"
I shook my head.
Not because I didn't know.
But because I didn't know how to explain anything.
My mommy was still in the hospital.
But I didn't know the hospital name.
I didn't know the street.
I didn't even know how we got there.
Another doctor entered the room.
"She can be discharged tomorrow," he said.
Discharged.
The word echoed inside my head.
Discharged.
To where?
The man looked worried.
"What happens to her?" he asked.
The doctor shrugged.
"We'll contact the police."
"We'll try to find her family."
Police.
My stomach twisted.
The man noticed.
He leaned closer to me.
"My name is Jonas," he said softly.
"But you can call me Joe."
His voice sounded calmer now.
"You can't speak, and you don't know where you live."
"So for now, you're going to stay with me."
"We'll talk to the police and find your mom."
I stared at him.
A stranger.
I didn't want a stranger.
I wanted my mommy.
Only my mommy.
Inside my head, I kept repeating the same words.
Please wake up.
Please come back.
Please don't leave me.
But nobody could hear me.
The car he brought looked unreal.
It was the longest car I had ever seen.
I didn't even know cars like that existed.
It looked like something rich people used in movies.
Shiny.
Black.
Perfect.
Too clean for someone like me.
He told me to get in.
I hesitated.
My clothes were old.
My shoes were dirty.
Even though I had just come out of the hospital, I still felt like I didn't belong inside something so nice.
Jonas noticed.
Without saying anything, he gently lifted me into the seat.
The leather felt warm.
The air inside the car smelled like something sweet and expensive.
The windows were dark.
The seats were soft.
I had never been in a car like that before.
We drove for a long time.
So long that the city started to disappear.
Tall buildings turned into trees.
Busy roads turned into quiet streets.
My eyes grew heavy as I watched everything change outside the window.
Then suddenly, the car slowed down.
Huge iron gates stood in front of us.
They slowly opened.
Beyond them was something I had never seen before.
Gardens everywhere.
Fountains.
Lights shining across enormous houses.
It looked like a palace.
When I stepped out of the car, people immediately noticed me.
Some wore uniforms.
Others wore beautiful clothes.
They stared at me.
At my worn shoes.
At my messy hair.
At my hospital band.
I felt like a lost toy that had fallen into the wrong box.
Suddenly, a large dog ran toward me.
I froze.
I was terrified of dogs.
Jonas quickly stepped beside me.
"Stay close," he said.
I grabbed his hand tightly.
Three people walked toward us.
They looked like him.
Rich.
Confident.
Serious.
One woman smiled gently.
"So this is the little girl?" she asked.
Jonas sighed.
"I don't even know her name," he said.
"She can't speak."
"She was hit by a car."
"Her mother is still in the hospital."
They all looked at me carefully.
Someone brought a notebook and pen.
My hands were still shaking when I wrote.
M-E-R-I
Mary.
They read it.
"Mary," the woman repeated softly.
My legs were starting to hurt.
She lifted me into her arms.
I was too tired to protest.
She carried me inside the house.
The ceiling was enormous.
The walls were covered with paintings.
The floor was a shiny marble.
Everything inside looked bigger than my entire house back home.
She bathed me carefully.
Cleaned the dirt from my wounds.
Then she gave me new clothes.
Soft clothes.
Warm clothes.
After that, she brought me a bowl of soup.
Real soup.
Hot.
Comforting.
The smell alone made my stomach twist with hunger.
It was the first warm meal I had eaten in days.
As I ate slowly, something painful pressed against my chest.
My mommy was the only person who had ever fed me before.
And suddenly…
In this giant beautiful house…
Surrounded by strangers…
I missed her more than I had ever missed anyone.
Later, the nanny explained the house to me.
"This is the Lutheral estate," she said proudly.
"This family is very powerful."
I listened carefully.
"There are five sons," she continued.
"And one mother."
"The woman you saw earlier."
"Mrs. Lutheral."
"She gave birth to all of them."
The nanny leaned closer.
"The eldest son is called King."
King.
I didn't understand how someone's real name could be King.
But the nanny looked serious.
"He is the coldest one."
"The most ruthless."
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"If he finds out that Mr. Joe brought a strange little girl into the house…"
She stopped talking.
But I understood.
He would send me away.
Suddenly, the palace didn't feel safe anymore.
It felt like a maze.
A place where I could get lost forever.
The nanny kept talking.
"Mr. Joe is the third son."
"The second son is married."
"The others…"
She hesitated.
"…are not very friendly."
I hugged my knees.
Too many strangers.
Too many powerful people.
Then suddenly, a deep voice echoed through the hallway.
A man's voice.
Cold.
Sharp.
"Who brought a child into my house?"
The nanny froze.
Her face turned pale.
She whispered something that made my heart start beating faster.
"King has returned."
And for the first time since entering the mansion…
I felt truly afraid.