Jaxen’s voice broke the silence. “She sings beautifully. I could almost fall asleep listening.”
The lullaby possessed a hypnotic quality that seemed to weave through the air, soft and compelling.
Katelyn remained silent, her attention fixed on the source of the music. She approached the room quietly.
The door was slightly ajar, a narrow opening revealing the scene within. Through the crack, she saw a middle-aged woman seated beside a bed, cradling a “child” in her arms and humming a tender melody.
Time had etched its subtle lines across the woman’s face, yet her beauty was breathtaking—so striking that Katelyn found herself momentarily transfixed. An inexplicable sense of familiarity tugged at her heart, though she knew with certainty she had never seen this woman before. A profound sense of comfort emanated from her.
The lullaby concluded, and the woman spoke softly. “Sleep tight, baby. Mommy will buy you something yummy tomorrow.”
The scene struck Katelyn deeply. A wave of inexplicable sadness spread through her chest, bringing a sudden lump to her throat. Just then, the woman, who had been lovingly holding the doll, raised her head and looked directly at Katelyn.
Their eyes met, and Katelyn’s heart leaped in response.
Instantly, the woman’s demeanor transformed. She clutched the “child” tightly, her eyes now filled with a protective fury. “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice sharp with maternal instinct. “Don’t you dare take my child away!”
Her gaze bore into Katelyn like that of a fierce guardian confronting a potential threat. She adjusted the “child” with meticulous care, her actions revealing the depth of her devotion to this fragile “child.”
Katelyn met the woman’s intense stare, a complex emotion swirling within her. After a moment of careful consideration,
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She spoke with gentle reassurance. “I won’t take your child. I won’t hurt them.” Something in Katelyn’s tone seemed to penetrate the woman’s defensive barrier. Gradually, her tension began to dissolve. She looked at Katelyn, pressed a slender finger to her lips in a delicate shushing gesture, and then offered a tender smile.
“My child is such a darling,” she cooed softly, her voice brimming with maternal warmth. “Never cried since birth, and so lovely.” With infinite gentleness, she patted the “child”—a carefully arranged constellation of pillows mimicking an infant’s form.
Seeing her like this, Katelyn felt exceptionally distressed, yet even more curious about her identity.
Slowly, Katelyn approached the woman and asked softly, “May I ask what your name is?”
A hint of anticipation gleamed in her eyes, her curiosity burning to understand who this mysterious woman might be.
Katelyn studied her carefully. The woman clearly appeared to be from Granville, not Yata—a detail that fueled Katelyn’s intense curiosity. Something about the woman felt profoundly strange, creating an unsettling sense of intrigue.
After hearing Katelyn’s question, the woman thought deeply, her brow furrowing. “What’s my name? Who am I? I don’t know!”
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