Soft spot

New home

As the car rolled to a stop, Daisy looked up to see a sprawling mansion looming before her, its grandeur both awe-inspiring and intimidating. The architecture was a mix of modern elegance and timeless beauty, with sprawling gardens that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was a world away from the farm she had known.

Minho stepped out first, then turned to her, his hand outstretched. As she took his hand, she felt the warmth of his grip, firm yet gentle, a reassuring presence amid the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. He didn’t let go, guiding her as they walked toward the entrance. The mansion buzzed with activity; servants moved gracefully through the halls, their footsteps quiet yet purposeful.

He led her inside, navigating through opulent rooms adorned with fine art and luxurious furnishings. Daisy couldn’t help but feel small in this world, as if she were a ghost in someone else’s life. After what felt like a short eternity, they arrived at a door, and Minho paused, his grip still holding her hand tightly.

“This is your room,” he said, his tone warm yet commanding. “Everything you need has been prepared. I’ll be back later.” With that, he reluctantly released her hand, but the lingering warmth of his touch remained.

Daisy stepped inside, her eyes wide with wonder. The room was spacious, filled with soft, muted colors that created a calm ambiance. A large bed draped in luxurious linens sat against one wall, and a window opened up to a view of the sprawling gardens. It was beautiful, but it felt foreign, as if she were stepping into a dream that didn’t belong to her.

Once Minho left, the silence enveloped her like a heavy blanket. She wandered around the room, running her fingers over the delicate furnishings and taking in the details. But the wonder quickly faded, and the weight of her reality crashed over her like a wave.

She collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in the soft pillows. Overwhelmed by the rush of emotions, memories of her past flooded her mind—moments of laughter with her mother, the pain of her father’s disdain, the loneliness of being abandoned. It was too much to bear, and before she knew it, tears streamed down her face.

Daisy cried, letting the sorrow wash over her until her body grew heavy with exhaustion. The tears turned into quiet sobs, and eventually, the soft lull of the room coaxed her into a deep sleep. As she drifted off, the worries of her new life momentarily faded, replaced by the hope of what tomorrow might bring.

In her dreams, she saw glimpses of the life she had left behind, but they were interspersed with flashes of a future she couldn’t yet comprehend—of Minho, of safety, of being more than just a burden. The possibilities hung tantalizingly in the air, and for the first time in a long while, Daisy dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could change.