Miranda's POV
The Hart garden had always been my favorite part of the estate.
Whenever the house felt too large or the expectations inside it became too heavy, I found myself wandering among the flowerbeds and quiet pathways. It was the one place where silence never felt oppressive.
That morning, silence was exactly what I needed.
I sat beneath the old oak tree with a book resting open on my lap.
I had read the same page at least four times, yet I couldn't remember a single sentence.
My eyes followed the words.
My thoughts wandered somewhere else.
The conversation with Father yesterday kept replaying in my mind.
"What do you want?"
No one had ever asked me that before.
Even now, the question lingered in my heart without an answer.
A gentle breeze stirred the branches overhead.
Sunlight slipped through the leaves, scattering shifting patterns across the grass.
For the first time in what felt like weeks, I wasn't pretending to enjoy the quiet.
