The Words He Couldn’t Say

Zayan had never been good at gratitude. Apologies weren't part of his vocabulary, not even when his life had been saved.

He stood in silence as his mother scolded him, arms crossed, eyes fierce.

"Did you thank her?" she asked, watching him closely.

His head lowered. He couldn't meet her gaze. His silence answered for him.

"Zayan!" she snapped. "For once in your life, thank someone who risked everything for you! That girl saved your life and all you can do is keep your mouth shut?"

He didn't respond. He couldn't. The words were trapped in his throat.

That weekend, the estate was calm. All work had been suspended, and his mother insisted everyone rest for the week.

"Go out. Have fun. Take a break," she told him, still slightly annoyed.

But Zayan's mind wasn't on relaxation. It was on Nora.

He hadn't seen her since the incident. She hadn't been around the estate. Eventually, curiosity overtook him.

"Where is Nora?" he asked his assistant without looking up from his desk.

The assistant hesitated. "Sir, I asked the head maid. She said Nora went to the orphanage."

Zayan paused. Slowly, he lifted his head. "Orphanage?"

"Yes, sir. She… she was raised there."

He blinked. "She's an orphan?"

The truth hit him harder than he expected. He had always known Nora as the quiet, obedient maid—never once thinking about where she came from, who she really was, or what she had endured.

Now, for the first time, he realized he knew nothing about her. Nothing at all.

And suddenly, he wanted to.