5. SOFIA VOLKOV

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Life and death are surely really strange cycles. It's fascinating how the end of one's life can bring about new beginnings for others. The interconnectedness of all living beings is a constant reminder of the beauty and fragility of existence.

Life is playful and unpredictable, with each moment holding the potential for both joy and sorrow. Embracing the unknown can lead to a deeper appreciation for the intricate tapestry of life.

While death is simple,.

No tricks.

No deals.

Just death.

It is the one certainty that we all face, yet it remains a mystery until it happens.

I knock on the door, my thoughts swirling inside my head as I contemplate the finality of life. The unknown beyond the door is both terrifying and intriguing.

The door opens, bringing Emma's warm face into my sight. I finally got the courage to visit Stacy after two days. I need her; she needs me more. So, here I am, visiting her on a sunny afternoon, as my mornings are usually busy.

"Is she sleeping?" I gently ask, taking off my heels and placing them by the door. My feet relax as they finally get some comfortable surfaces to walk on.

"She is awake right now. Her tutor just went back after teaching her." Emma smiles, but her eyes remain devoid of warmth.

"Dr. Maybell told me that she is much more clumsy and forgetful lately. I'm worried about her." I nod, a pang of concern tightening in my chest. "She also told me that she is not opening herself to her like she used to, and she thinks something is really reminding her of the past. What do you think?" I explain and ask, hanging my coat on the brass tree.

Emma thinks for a while and then responds.

"I can't think of anything that could remind her of something present in this house. She barely gets out of the house, so it could not be something from the outside. Audrey's belongings are also out of sight." Emma pauses, furrowing her brow in thought. "Maybe it's not something physical," she suggests. "It could be a memory or emotion that's resurfacing for her, triggered by something intangible."

I just nod.

"I am really worried for her. I mean, I have dealt with her situations many times before, but this time she is really weird. I mean, I don't even know how to say it." Emma locks and unlocks her fists; she always does them when she is really worried.

"It will be alright, Emma. I am here." I go and pat her back, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Okay. If you are going into her room, then please take this juice with you." Emma rushes to the kitchen and brings me a glass of freshly squeezed fruit juice.

"Thanks, Emma. I'll make sure she drinks it," I say with a reassuring smile before heading towards Stacy's room. As I enter, I notice her sitting on the bed, doing something.

I go forward and notice that Stacy is reading a book with furrowed brows, her fingers tapping nervously on the pages. I approach her slowly, offering her the glass of juice with a gentle smile. "Hey Stacy, I brought you some juice. How about we sit and talk for a bit?"

Stacy looks up, relief washing over her face as she takes the glass from my hand.

"You didn't even knock before entering. You said it was bad manners." Stacy takes a delicate sip of the juice, her face relaxing as the taste blooms on her tongue.

"I am so sorry. I was just so excited to meet you that I forgot that." I lie about being excited because Stacy hates it when we treat her like a different person, or, in simpler terms, she doesn't like being treated as a patient with some sort of a weird  condition.

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