That night, Sky couldn’t sleep. She lay in the dark listening to the hum of the fridge and the distant sound of traffic, but all she could see was Eloin’s face—the fear in her eyes, the way she flinched at every sound.
“Mom,” Sky whispered into the dark. “That girl at the mansion… something’s wrong.”
Her mother sighed.
“Baby, rich people have problems too,” she said. “But it’s not our business.”
“She asked for help,” Sky insisted.
“Sky, we need this job.” Her mother’s voice was tired. “Please don’t cause trouble.”
Sky went quiet. She understood more than kids her age were supposed to. Rent. Late notices. The way her mom’s shoulders dropped when bills came in the mail.
But she didn’t stop thinking about Eloin.
The next day, Sky went back with her mother. While her mom scrubbed the kitchen, Sky waited by the doorway until no one was looking. Then she slipped down the hallway and found the same room.
Eloin sat by the window, knees tucked under her, looking out at the garden like she was watching a world she wasn’t allowed to enter.
“You came back?” Eloin whispered when she saw Sky.
“Of course,” Sky said. “We’re friends now.”
Eloin blinked.
“Friends?” she repeated as if the word was fragile.