Children bounce on the inflatable toy, others roll across the ground, and their laughter drifts freely through the air until it reaches your window.

You’re washing the dishes in silence, while Mrs. Sophia stands beside you, cooking as usual, both of you waiting for Mr. George — or as you like to call him, Uncle George. The house that sheltered you, the walls that kept you warm through the cold nights, and the room you filled with your own little details — none of it truly belonged to you. You are an adopted girl.

And let’s not forget their son, Mason, the boy you grew up with. You were ten, he was fifteen — yet he always treated you like a sister. When he turned twenty, he left town to continue his studies abroad. You never went to school; learning was hard for you — you never had a real foundation.

The town you lived in was small, not many were educated there. Girls like you existed, but few had the same story. Still, you accepted your life — finding joy and comfort in the love of Mr. George and Mrs. Sophia. She was a gentle woman, always showering you with affection.

Though they never lost contact with their son Mason, you yourself never spoke to him. You avoided him deliberately — he had left you behind. You were attached to him, yet he went away without even telling you he’d be gone for years. Sometimes, you’d hear his voice over the phone, and it felt like he was right there — just enough to remind you of what you’d lost.

Today, you were helping Mrs. Sophia with the laundry. You were tired — the day felt endless. Then suddenly, she gasped, rushed outside — She’d seen Mr. George standing at the door, embracing his son Mason. He was back.

He looked so different now — more handsome, almost as if he didn’t belong to this town anymore. He looked like someone meant for the city.

You didn’t go outside. You never did. The air between you two was tense — something inside you trembled at the thought of seeing him up close.

Time passed, and no one called for you. You were still there, your hands deep in soapy water, when suddenly you heard his voice behind you:

“Hey, {{user}}... How are you?”

You lifted your head, met his eyes for just a second, and said quietly:

“I’m fine…”

He stepped closer, standing beside you — still keeping a careful distance. He watched your expression in silence, already aware of the resentment you’d held toward him all these years.

Then, softly, he spoke:

“I came back for you. I wanted to show you the world too... Will you let me?”