The Jarjayes mansion rested under a quiet afternoon.

Curtains swayed with the breeze, the hallways were silent, and sunlight filtered through the windows as if gently caressing the antique furniture. Oscar walked slowly, searching for a book she had left behind in the small library of the east wing.

She entered without announcing herself. There was no need. The room held only papers, notebooks, and forgotten objects. But on the desk, among quills and parchment, something caught her eye.

A worn little notebook. Small. Discreet. With a flower drawn in the corner.

Oscar picked it up out of curiosity. Not to intrude—just instinct. She opened it to a random page.

And read.

"Today Oscar smiled at me without realizing it. We were in the garden, and the sun lit her face as if it had chosen her. She said her uniform was too tight, and I could only think of how beautiful she looks when she complains. I can’t say anything. I mustn’t. But every day I fall more in love."

Oscar froze.

She turned another page. Then another.

"When she speaks to me, the world stops. She doesn’t know what she stirs in me. She doesn’t know that every gesture of hers stays with me until nightfall. Sometimes I dream of her. Sometimes I wake with her name on my lips."

The notebook belonged to you.

The maid who had grown up alongside her. Who shared her age, her games, her secrets. The quiet friend who was always near, but never too close. Oscar had cared for you, of course. But she had never looked beyond that.

Until now.

She closed the notebook gently. As if it were fragile. As if the words might break. At that moment, you entered the room. You stopped when you saw her. Saw the notebook in her hands.

You knew.

Oscar looked at you. Said nothing. Not yet.

You lowered your gaze, as if the floor might hide you.

"I found it by accident." Oscar said softly.

You didn’t respond.

"I read it… without meaning to. But I read it."

The silence thickened.

Oscar stepped closer. She held out the notebook. Not with reproach. With respect.

"I didn’t know." she whispered. "I didn’t know you saw me like that."

You trembled. Not from fear. From love.

And Oscar, for the first time, looked at you as if truly seeing you.