A soft breeze moved through the Evermere trees outside the villa.
Leaves shifted gently against one another, carrying a faint rustling sound that slipped through the open window.
Somewhere farther off, birds called into the morning air.
Malissa stirred slowly, eyes opening without urgency.
For a moment she just lay there listening.
Then she reached for her phone beside the bed and checked the time.
Early enough.
She exhaled softly, then sat up and rubbed her eyes.
The day had already begun without asking for permission.
She got out of bed, got dressed quietly and headed downstairs.
The villa was already awake in its own way, even if no one moved within it.
The space felt too large for one person, yet not empty enough to feel abandoned.
In the kitchen, she paused.
Then she began preparing breakfast.
Nothing elaborate. Just toast. Scrambled eggs. Coffee.
Simple food for a simple morning.
When she was done, she placed everything neatly on a tray.
She did not call for Alexander.
She did not check where he was.
Instead, she covered the plates and left them on the dining table.
Then she returned upstairs.
Later that morning, she sat on her bed surrounded by her sketchwork.
The sheets were slightly scattered with papers she had pulled out without much planning.
Finished designs sat on one side.
The ones she was proud of but rarely revisited were placed carefully in another stack.
Unfinished sketches were grouped separately, lines incomplete and ideas paused halfway.
Then there were the uncertain ones.
The designs that felt almost right but not quite there.
She stared at them for a while, turning one sheet over in her hands.
There was no pressure in the room.
Only time.
And the quiet work of sorting pieces of herself she had created over months.
Eventually, she leaned back and left them arranged across the bed.
Silence filled the room again.
By midday, boredom had settled in gently.
She picked up her phone and scrolled through it without real intention.
News alerts filled the screen.
Different headlines repeating similar warnings.
Increasing cases. Travel restrictions.
Government advisories. She read for a while.
Then stopped.
There was nothing new in any of it.
Just variations of the same uncertainty.
She locked the screen and set the phone aside.
There were no new conversations. No one to reply to.
Silence filled the space again.
After a while she lay back and drifted into sleep without resistance.
When she woke again, the light had shifted.
Afternoon had already settled in.
She stayed in bed for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling.
Then she got up.
The house was still quiet when she went downstairs.
She made her way into the living room and turned on the television.
The same topics appeared again.
Different channels.
Same message.
The world outside was changing faster than anyone could properly process.
She watched for a while, then switched channels.
A drama played quietly.
Not new. Not particularly exciting.
But she watched anyway.
Long enough to follow the story.
Long enough to lose interest.
Then she turned it off and stood in the quiet again, unsure of what to do next.
The villa felt unchanged, yet different in its stillness.
Eventually, she moved back into the kitchen.
She decided to cook dinner.
Evening approached slowly.
The villa outside the windows was painted in soft orange light.
Malissa moved through the kitchen with quiet focus.
She cooked rice.
Then prepared soup.
Nothing elaborate, just enough for two plates. The process gave her something to do with her hands, even if her mind was elsewhere.
As she worked, a faint sound played from her phone placed on the counter.
Music filled the kitchen softly.
Not loud enough to demand attention.
Just present in the background as she moved between stove and counter.
It kept her company in a way silence did not.
When the food was ready, she plated it carefully.
Then she paused.
The breakfast tray was no longer on the dining table.
Her movements slowed slightly.
She walked closer.
The plate was gone.
Not untouched.
Not forgotten.
Gone.
A small pause followed as she tried to recall when she had last seen it.
She had not noticed it earlier in the day.
Somewhere between sketches, sleep and television, it had disappeared.
She looked toward the kitchen sink.
The dishes had been cleaned.
Carefully.
No mess left behind.
Just quiet order.
Alexander had eaten it.
Without saying anything.
Without mentioning it.
She stood there for a moment longer, then returned to the stove.
Later, she placed dinner on the table.
Two plates.
Simple portions.
She sat down first.
A few minutes passed before footsteps approached.
Alexander entered the dining area.
He paused briefly when he saw the food.
Then he sat across from her without comment.
No acknowledgment of the earlier meal.
No remark about the preparation.
Just silence settling naturally between them.
They ate.
Not together in the traditional sense.
But in the same space.
The sound of cutlery replaced conversation.
Outside, Evermere had already begun to darken into night.
Inside, the villa felt steady.
Unmoving.
Almost suspended from the world they had left behind.
Malissa finished eating first and placed her spoon down gently.
Alexander was still eating when she stood to clear her plate.
Neither spoke.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because nothing needed to be said.
For now, that was enough.