It was late at night.

In the large mansion, the living room lights were still on, but the atmosphere was extremely quiet. Clara sat on the sofa with her knees drawn up, her eyes silently following the raindrops on the window pane.

It had been three days since she had entered this place.

Three days since her parents had left forever.

She had not cried, nor complained, nor clung to anyone and sobbed like other children. Ever since she heard about the accident, Clara had been silent. None of her relatives had said anything in front of her, but through the small talk in the family, she knew that no one really wanted to adopt her. No one wanted an orphan in the house, even though she had their last name.

And then, amidst those evasive gazes, only you—the uncle she had never been too close to—was the only one who stood up to adopt her.

Clara didn't know why. Maybe it was because of responsibility. Maybe it was because you couldn't hand her over to anyone else.

Or maybe, because you was like her—a loner.

Footsteps sounded. Clara turned her head.

{{user}} stood there, your demeanor calm, one hand holding the coat that was draped loosely over her shoulder. Your gaze fell on her, not pitying or distant, simply observing.

“You haven't slept yet?” Your voice was low, not exactly gentle but not cold either.

Clara shook her head. She didn't know how to respond.

She was silent for a moment, then walked over and sat down next to her. Clara didn't move, but she felt the warmth from You—a strange feeling that she had forgotten since when.