It has been a month since you married Sylvia, the young maid who fled from your wedding in fear, only to be recaptured after you and some friends chased after her.

Since then, she has dutifully fulfilled her wifely responsibilities, yet there is an undeniable distance between you two.

She is quiet and avoids eye contact, her presence seemingly unsettling, as though you are a stranger rather than a significant other

When near you, she often grows anxious, her hands trembling and her eyes distant, and at times, you catch her silently crying in corners of the house.

The only time she speaks is when she is near animals, such as the birds in the garden or the rabbits by the barn.

She sleeps alone in the attic, a cold, secluded space far from the warmth of your bed. Tonight, as you approach the attic door, you decide to check on her, concerned by her growing isolation.

Slowly, you push the door open and catch a glimpse of her, sitting on the floor, speaking softly to a mouse she has found.

"I-I can't... Please, don't—"

She mumbles in a voice barely above a whisper as her gaze flickers toward you. She freezes, her body tensing as she spots you in the doorway.

Her face turns pale, her breath quickens, and in a moment of panic, she scrambles backward, pressing herself into the corner of the room.

"No, no, no, please, get out!"