Threads of the Past

The corridor leading to Greta's quarters seemed darker than usual, each step feeling heavier than the last. 

Rosa walked slightly ahead of me, her presence a small comfort amidst my swirling thoughts. 

The anticipation clawed at my chest as I prepared myself to meet the head maid—the woman who supposedly held the keys to answers I desperately needed.

Yet, I knew I had to tread carefully. 

"Rosa," I said softly, breaking the silence. 

She turned to look at me, her expression questioning. 

"You didn't tell Greta anything, did you?" I asked. 

Her brow furrowed in slight offense. 

"Of course not, Signora Maria. I only told her you wanted to speak about... Bruno's first wife. Nothing else." 

I nodded, my steps slowing slightly. 

"Good. This has to stay between us, okay? No one can know." 

Rosa stopped in her tracks and turned to face me fully, her dark eyes serious.