SILENT LISTENER

Elara woke with a dry cough.

Her throat burned so fiercely that it felt as though someone had wrapped their hands around her neck the night before and tried to choke her. She swallowed with difficulty. Every movement sent a sharp sting through her throat, and even breathing felt like shards of glass scraping against it.

She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the cracked ceiling above her.

The room was freezing.

The old window in the corner never closed properly. A cold breeze slipped through the narrow gaps, making the thin, faded curtain sway gently while a soft whistling sound echoed through the room.

Instinctively, Elara curled herself into a ball, hoping to find a little warmth.

But...

There was nothing covering her.

Confused, she ran her hand over the rough mattress, then searched around her bed. Her fingers touched nothing but the coarse, icy bedsheet.

Her blanket was gone.

For a few seconds, she simply sat there, staring at the empty space where it should have been.

In that freezing orphanage, a blanket was worth more than gold or diamonds. Winter had not fully arrived yet, but the nights were already cold enough that the children wore every piece of clothing they owned to bed or shared blankets just to keep from shivering.

Slowly, Elara climbed out of bed.

The moment her bare feet touched the wooden floor, a wave of icy cold shot through her body. She shivered, but said nothing.

Her eyes wandered across the rows of beds.

Then she saw it.

Her brown blanket was lying on Rosalyn's bed.

Rosalyn was already awake, absentmindedly brushing her hair as though nothing had happened.

Elara took a few hesitant steps toward her.

Her throat hurt so badly that even breathing had become difficult.

Still, she spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"H... hey, Roz..."

Rosalyn didn't even look at her. She simply raised an eyebrow as if she had heard something mildly irritating.

Elara gathered what little strength she had left and tried again.

"C-Could you... please... give me... my blanket... back?"

The words came out in broken fragments. Every syllable scraped against her swollen throat, making her wince with pain.

Only then did Rosalyn turn to face her.

She frowned.

"Who said you could call me Roz?"

Her voice grew louder.

"And your blanket isn't with me."

Elara didn't argue.

She simply lifted a trembling finger and pointed toward the brown blanket lying unmistakably on Rosalyn's bed.

A few of the other girls glanced over from their beds, silently watching.

For a brief moment, the room fell completely still.

Then Rosalyn shot to her feet.

Her face flushed bright red with anger.

"So you think I'm a thief?!"

Her voice echoed through the dormitory.

Startled, Elara instinctively took a step back.

"N-No... I just..."

The sentence never reached its end.

The dormitory door flew open.

Mrs. Ashcraft strode inside.

She was a heavyset woman with hastily tied-back hair and the permanent expression of someone who had long since run out of patience. Her tired eyes swept across the room, and the moment they landed on Elara, her frown deepened.

"You again?"

No one answered.

Mrs. Ashcraft let out an annoyed sigh.

"Causing trouble again? Do you honestly have no idea what a burden you are?"

Elara pressed her dry lips together.

She fought to keep the tears from spilling over. She knew from experience that crying would only make things worse.

Lowering her head, she whispered,

"S... sorry..."

Mrs. Ashcraft let out a scornful laugh.

"You're such a crybaby."

She pointed a finger at Elara.

"If this happens again, you can forget about dinner."

Elara gave a small nod.

She didn't even dare explain that all she had wanted was her own blanket back.

Without waiting for a reply, Mrs. Ashcraft turned toward the door.

Her hand paused on the doorknob for just a moment.

Then, under her breath—but loud enough for everyone in the room to hear—she muttered,

"Why won't anyone take that useless girl...?"

The door shut behind her with a dull thud.

Silence settled over the dormitory once again.

For a few long seconds, no one spoke.

Then Rosalyn, who had heard every word, curled her lips into a smug, triumphant smile. Deliberately, she pulled Elara's blanket tighter around herself, as if she wanted to remind Elara that there was nothing she could do about it.

Elara looked at her.

Not with anger.

Not with hatred.

She simply looked.

Then she quietly turned away and walked back to her bed.

She sat down on the thin, worn mattress. The cold seeped through the fabric and into her bones. Wrapping her arms around herself, she pulled her knees to her chest, trying to hold on to what little warmth she had left.

Her throat still burned with every breath.

But it wasn't the cold that hurt the most.

It was the sentence that kept echoing in her mind.

"Why won't anyone take that useless girl...?"

It wasn't the first time someone had said something like that about her.

And deep down...

She knew it wouldn't be the last.