Breaking Stillness

The girls returned from their shifts that evening and immediately sensed something different.

Matilda wasn't lying motionless on her metal bunk bed, nor was she staring blankly at the weary ceiling as she had for weeks. This time, her eyes held focus, distant but aware.

She wasn't entirely lifeless anymore.

Nora was the first to react. She rushed to Matilda's bedside, the one closest to the wooden-framed window that offered a narrow glimpse of the outside world.

Her voice trembled with worry. "Matilda... are you okay?" she muttered, cautiously approaching.

Her hand hovered slightly in the air, hesitating; once, then twice, unsure if her touch would comfort or push Matilda further away. After a moment of silent deliberation, she finally rested her fingers lightly on Matilda's slumped shoulders. Uncertainty and quiet inquiry filled her gaze.

The others quickly gathered around her, their concerns reflected in their furrowed brows and hesitant glances, the air thick with unspoken worry.

They had been terrified that the emotional damage would consume her entirely, leaving nothing but a hollow shell.

Nora sniffled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She hesitated, then slowly reached out, wrapping her arms around Matilda in a gentle embrace.

Matilda instinctively flinched.

It was slight. Almost imperceptible.

But she didn't pull away. She didn't reject the warmth.

She simply remained still... stiff, silent, but she allowed it.

Her lips curled into something resembling a smile, though it barely reached her eyes. A slight nod followed.

A quiet response to them. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The girls exchanged uneasy glances. This wasn't the Matilda they knew.

Then, the door creaked open again, drawing everyone's attention.

Tina stepped in, her sharp gaze flickering with unreadable thoughts.

In her hands, she carried a bowl of warm chicken stew and freshly baked bread. Instantly, the rich aroma filled the room, cutting through the heavy atmosphere.

She hesitated at the threshold, fingers tightening around the bowl as if debating whether to step forward or turn back.

The girls watched her, confused.

Finally, after what felt like an internal battle, Tina exhaled and took a step closer. Her voice, normally laced with sarcasm, came out awkward, almost unsure.

"Hey... uhm, how are you?"

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The words felt foreign even to her, and the others weren't sure they had heard her right.

For Tina, it was the most humiliating moment of her life.

The girls gaped at her, stunned.

Then Nora, snapping out of her shock, frowned and crossed her arms.

"Tina, if you have something to say, just say it and leave. No one's forcing you. Your presence alone is depressing, and that's unhealthy for her."

Tina's expression twisted in irritation.

"You better shut that mouth of yours, Nora. I wasn't even talking to you...busybody."

Then, without another word, she turned back to Matilda and shoved the bowl toward her.

Matilda blinked, confused.

"What? You don't want it?" Tina scoffed, shifting uncomfortably. "Listen, it's not like I go around giving my things to people. In fact, I don't do such things. You're the first. And here you are, looking at me like I have two heads."

Matilda simply stared at her, unreadable.

Tina clicked her tongue in frustration. "Ugh, whatever. If you don't want it, throw it away. That's it. People don't deserve kindness anyway. I don't even know what I was thinking." She muttered, almost as if scolding herself.

Before anyone could process her words, she shoved the bowl onto Matilda's lap.

Then, without another word, she spun on her heels and stormed out.

Silence.

Nora's jaw dropped. She whipped her head toward the others, eyes wide.

"Did anyone else just see that?" she asked, pointing toward the door. "Tina. Giving food. To Matilda."

Sylvia, still staring at the door, gave a slow nod.

Lynda exhaled, arms crossed. "Well… that was unexpected."

"Unexpected?" Nora's perfectly carved eyebrows shot up. "That was unreal! Since when does Tina do things like this? Did she hit her head or something?" She turned back to Matilda, hesitating before speaking again. "And you... you actually took it?"

Matilda remained silent, her gaze lowered to the bowl in her lap. Her fingers curled slightly around its edge.

Nora bit her lip, watching her closely. "I mean... it's good, right? That she did that?" Her voice softened. "It means something.

Lynda placed a steadying hand on Nora's shoulder. "Let's not overthink it." She glanced at Matilda. "The food's still warm. You should eat."

Matilda didn't respond immediately. But after a brief pause, she adjusted her grip on the bowl...subtly, hesitantly.

It was small, almost unnoticeable.

But it was something.

Nora exhaled, rubbing the back of her neck. She didn't know what to say. But for the first time in weeks, Matilda didn't seem so unreachable. And maybe… just maybe, that was enough for now.

Sylvia, always the quiet observer, murmured. "Something changed."

Nora sucked in a breath. "The sun has risen from the West!"

The girls exchanged uncertain glances before turning back to Matilda.

She didn't react.

Instead, she simply lifted the bowl and took a small bite of the bread.

The girls nearly fell over.

"Wait... what?" Nora's voice broke the silence. "We've been trying to get you to eat for weeks, and you refused. But Tina shows up, and suddenly, you're eating?"

She leaned closer, squinting at Matilda. "Are you not afraid of food poisoning?" A slight pause, then, she added. "And of all people... Tina?"

Matilda remained silent. She chewed slowly, her expression distant, detached.

Lynda exhaled. "Something is off. First Tina, now Matilda… It's like they've swapped personalities."

Matilda took another bite. Then another. She picked up the spoon, dipped it into the stew, and took a slow sip.

A quiet breath left her lips, measured, deliberate.

Then, as if coming to a decision, she pushed the blanket off her lap and rose to her feet.

"I think I'm ready to resume work."

The girls froze.

Nora blinked. "What?"

Lynda stepped forward, her voice laced with concern. "Matilda, your body… you're still recovering."

Her wounds had closed, but the scars remained; some faint, others deep and unkind.

And those were only the ones they could see. The worst of them, hidden beneath her worn clothes.

Matilda didn't waver.

"Are you sure?" Lynda pressed gently. "Maybe you should rest a little longer..."

But Matilda was already moving.

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

She walked past them, straight toward the door.

And then, she was gone.

Headed straight for Madam Tera's place.

The silence she left behind was heavier than before.

Lynda crossed her arms, uneasy. "That… that didn't feel right."

Nora exhaled sharply, raking a hand through her hair. "She didn't even hesitate."

Sylvia, usually composed, murmured, "She's pushing herself too soon…" Her gaze lingered on the door before softening slightly. "But… something feels different this time."

Lynda exhaled slowly, her brows knitting together. "Yeah… but that's not stopping her."

No one knew what awaited Matilda at Madam Tera's place.

But one thing was certain...

She wasn't the same girl who had collapsed onto this bed weeks ago.