Elias didn't move.
He couldn't.
His mother was still kneeling where she had been moments ago, hands clasped tightly together, her head tilted slightly upward.
But something about her posture felt… wrong.
Too still.
Too precise.
"…Mother?" he called again, quieter this time.
She didn't respond immediately.
Then—
She laughed.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't wild.
It was soft.
Controlled.
And completely unfamiliar.
Elias felt his chest tighten.
His mother wasn't someone who laughed like that.
"Did you hear it?" she whispered.
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with something closer to awe.
Elias swallowed.
"Hear… what?"
Slowly, she turned her head toward him.
The movement was stiff. Deliberate. Like something remembering how to move rather than doing it naturally.
"It answered me."
Those words settled heavily in the air.
Elias forced a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"That's… good, isn't it?" he said carefully. "You were praying for help, right?"
"Yes."
Her smile widened.
Too wide.
"And it listened."
The room felt colder.
Elias shifted slightly, his instincts telling him something was wrong—deeply wrong—but he couldn't explain why.
This was what they wanted, wasn't it?
A prayer answered.
A miracle.
So why did it feel like this?
Behind him, the wooden floor creaked.
Elias turned.
His father stood in the doorway, his expression dark, unreadable.
He had heard.
Of course he had.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then his father stepped forward, slow and cautious.
"…What did you say?" he asked.
His mother didn't look at him.
Her eyes remained fixed on Elias.
"It answered," she repeated softly.
His father's gaze sharpened.
"And what exactly answered you?"
Silence.
Then—
Her lips parted slightly.
Elias leaned forward without realising it.
Waiting.
Something inside him needed to hear it.
Needed to understand.
But she didn't answer.
Instead, she bowed her head again.
And began to pray.
The same words as before.
The same rhythm.
The same quiet tone.
As if nothing had happened.
Elias blinked.
"…Mother?"
No response.
It was like the moment from before had never existed.
Like it had been… skipped.
His father moved quickly now, grabbing her wrist.
"That's enough," he said firmly.
She stopped.
Slowly.
Then looked up at him.
For a brief moment—just a flicker—
Something passed through her eyes.
Something empty.
Something that made Elias' stomach drop.
Then it was gone.
And she smiled again.
Soft.
Warm.
Familiar.
"I'm sorry," she said gently. "I must have drifted off for a moment."
Elias froze.
That wasn't right.
That wasn't what happened.
He knew it.
He felt it.
His father didn't let go of her wrist.
He stared at her, searching.
For what, Elias didn't know.
After a few seconds, he released her slowly.
"…Get some rest," he muttered.
She nodded, as if nothing was wrong, and stood up.
Everything about her movements now was normal again.
Too normal.
Elias couldn't shake the feeling.
"Did you… really not remember?" he asked carefully.
His mother tilted her head slightly.
"Remember what?"
He hesitated.
Then forced a small shake of his head.
"…Nothing."
She smiled and turned away, preparing to lie down.
Just like any other night.
Just like nothing had happened.
But something had.
Elias was sure of it.
Later, long after the room had gone quiet, Elias lay awake again.
The wind had not returned.
The silence pressed in from all sides.
He stared at the ceiling, replaying the moment over and over in his mind.
It answered me.
Those words wouldn't leave him.
He turned his head slightly.
His parents were asleep.
Or at least… they looked like they were.
Elias closed his eyes.
Tried to rest.
Tried to ignore the unease crawling under his skin.
Then—
A whisper.
Faint.
Barely audible.
Elias' eyes snapped open.
His breath caught.
He didn't move.
Didn't dare to.
"…Elias…"
The voice was not his mother's.
It was not his father's.
It was something else.
Something close.
Something that sounded like it was right beside him.
"…you heard it too…"
Elias' heart began to pound.
Slow.
Heavy.
He turned his head.
Very slowly.
There was nothing there.
But the feeling remained.
Watching.
Waiting.
And deep down—
Elias knew.
The prayer had been answered.
Just not in the way they believed.