PART 2 — THE SECRET BEHIND THE SILENCE
PART 2 — THE SECRET BEHIND THE SILENCE
The next morning, Nora woke up before the alarm.
She always did.
Not because she was disciplined.
Because she had learned that waking up early prevented problems.
If she finished her chores before Mabel entered the kitchen, there was less chance of hearing complaints.
Less chance of being called lazy.
Less chance of punishment.
She quietly folded her blanket.
Swept the small room.
Arranged everything perfectly.
Then she stood in front of the mirror.
Her reflection looked different from the child she used to be.
Her eyes looked older.
Tired.
Like they had been carrying things a child should never carry.
A knock came.
Nora froze.
“Yes?”
The door opened.
It was Mabel.
She looked calm.
Almost kind.
That scared Nora more than anger.
Because anger was predictable.
Kindness from Mabel usually meant something was coming.
“Come.”
Nora followed her to the kitchen.
On the table was breakfast.
Nora stared.
“You cooked?”
Mabel smiled.
“Yes.”
“Sit down.”
Nora slowly sat.
She didn’t touch the food.
Mabel noticed.
“What are you waiting for?”
Nora looked up.
“Nothing.”
“Then eat.”
Nora picked up the spoon.
Her hands were shaking.
Mabel watched silently.
Then she said:
“You know, Nora…”
The girl stopped.
“When people are given a good home, they should be grateful.”
Nora lowered her eyes.
“Yes, Auntie.”
“When people are helped, they should not create trouble.”
“Yes, Auntie.”
Mabel smiled.
“Good girl.”
But Nora wasn’t listening anymore.
She was remembering.
Her mother.
Her real home.
The small house where she used to laugh.
The day everything changed.
The day her mother died.
The day Mabel came and said:
“You will live with me now.”
Everyone said Nora was lucky.
They said Mabel was generous.
They said she was giving the child a better life.
Nobody asked Nora what she wanted.
Nobody noticed she stopped smiling.
After breakfast, Mabel gave her instructions.
“Clean the rooms.”
“Wash the clothes.”
“And stay away from the sitting room.”
Nora nodded quickly.
“I understand.”
Mabel stopped.
“One more thing.”
“Yes?”
“If anyone asks about anything…”
She leaned closer.
“You say nothing.”
Nora’s stomach tightened.
“Nothing about what?”
Mabel smiled.
“Good.”
“You already understand.”
Later that afternoon, Johnson came home earlier than usual.
He entered quietly.
The house was unusually silent.
Too silent.
He walked toward the kitchen.
Then stopped.
He heard Nora crying.
Very softly.
Almost silently.
He followed the sound.
The door was slightly open.
Inside, Nora was washing clothes.
Her hands were red from the cold water.
And she was crying.
Johnson knocked.
Nora quickly wiped her face.
“Sir.”
He frowned.
“Why are you crying?”
“I’m not.”
“Nora.”
She looked down.
“I’m okay.”
That answer bothered him.
Because children who are okay don’t usually say it that quickly.
Johnson entered.
He noticed the bucket.
The amount of clothes.
The work.
Too much for a child.
“You did all this alone?”
Nora nodded.
“Auntie said I should.”
He looked around.
“Mabel said that?”
“Yes.”
Johnson was quiet.
Then he noticed something.
A small mark near Nora’s wrist.
A bruise.
He reached toward it.
Nora immediately moved away.
The reaction was instant.
Johnson stopped.
“Nora.”
She lowered her head.
“I’m sorry.”
He felt his chest tighten.
Why was she apologizing?
He hadn’t even accused her.
That evening, Johnson watched Mabel.
She was laughing on the phone.
Talking about a charity event.
Everyone loved her.
Everyone praised her.
“You’re such a kind woman.”
“You’re such a blessing.”
Those were the words people always used.
But Johnson saw something different.
The moment she ended the call…
Her smile disappeared.
Like someone turning off a light.
At dinner, Johnson asked casually:
“How is Nora doing?”
Mabel continued eating.
“She’s fine.”
“She seems afraid.”
Mabel laughed.
“Afraid?”
“Yes.”
“Oh Johnson, she’s just shy.”
“She lost her mother.”
“She needs discipline.”
The word stayed in his mind.
Discipline.
Was that what this was?
Later that night, Johnson searched through old messages.
He found one from Nora’s school.
A teacher had written months ago:
“Mr. Johnson, we are concerned. Nora has become very quiet recently.”
“She avoids talking about home.”
“Please check if everything is okay.”
Johnson stared at the screen.
Why had he never seen this?
Then he remembered.
Mabel always handled school communication.
She said:
“Don’t worry. I’ll manage everything.”
A cold feeling entered his chest.
The next day, Johnson made a decision.
He would talk to Nora alone.
No Mabel.
No pressure.
Just him and the child.
But before he could…
Mabel stopped him.
“Johnson?”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
He turned.
“What?”
She looked serious.
“Nora has been acting strangely.”
His eyes narrowed.
“How?”
“She lies.”
“She disobeys.”
“She creates stories.”
Johnson stared at her.
“Stories?”
“Yes.”
“She wants attention.”
The words felt wrong.
Very wrong.
Because Johnson remembered something.
Nora didn’t ask for attention.
She tried to disappear.
That night, Johnson went to Nora’s room.
He knocked.
No answer.
He opened the door slowly.
“Nora?”
The room was empty.
His heart jumped.
He searched the house.
Nothing.
Then he heard a sound outside.
A small voice.
Crying.
He followed it.
Behind the house, near the storage area…
Nora was sitting alone.
Holding an old photograph.
Johnson walked closer.
“Nora?”
She quickly hid it.
“What are you doing here?”
Her eyes widened.
“Who hurt you?”
The question came softly.
But it changed everything.
Because Nora knew…
The truth was about to come out.
May you like
And Mabel had already warned her.
TO BE CONTINUED…
