On a cold winter’s night, the wind howled through the air.
The evergreen bamboo grove swayed in the gusts, producing a gentle rustling sound, while the red candles hung above swung softly with each breeze.
Surrounded by the natural music of the bamboo, Mila strolled along the path, carrying a candle. Her steps were light as she approached the neighbor’s door.
She rang the doorbell, and it wasn’t long before the door swung open.
A well-dressed middle-aged man with graying hair stepped out. He looked momentarily surprised to see her, but his expression softened when he noticed the candle in her hand.
Good evening.
Mila greeted him first, gesturing towards the villa at the other end of the bamboo path with a slight wave of her candle. She smiled, I’m your neighbor across the way, Sutherland. Thank you for the candle; it’s adorable.
Good evening, Ms. Sutherland.
The middle-aged man replied warmly, My name is Howard.
But, Ms. Sutherland, you might have misunderstood. I’m the butler here. It was my employer who thought his house looked too festive with all the candles and decided to hang some on yours so it wouldn’t seem too quiet.
I’m glad it didn’t bother you.
Mila quickly shook her head, Not at all. I love the candles; they’re charming. Your employer has a whimsical side. Please thank him for me.
I will, Howard promised with a smile.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries and letting him know he could reach out if he ever needed anything, Mila turned and made her way back home with her candle in hand.
Howard stood at the door, watching her disappear at the end of the bamboo path. Once she was gone, he closed the door and returned inside.
Did she like the candles?
A young man’s refined voice resonated in the warmly lit, cozy living room.
Howard answered respectfully, She did, sir.
The man didn’t reply further. Soon, a tall and slender figure, as graceful as bamboo, moved elegantly up the stairs and vanished from the living room.
The message was from her younger brother, Hugo Sutherland.
Ever since graduating college and getting married, Mila had distanced herself from her family, barely keeping in touch for the past seven years, and it had been almost two years since she last spoke with Hugo.
Despite the time that had passed, his familiar opening made her stomach turn.
Based on past experiences, she could predict the conversation’s trajectory if she replied.
If she responded with a simple Yes, the next question would inevitably be, How have you been? followed by feigned sentiments about missing her and wanting to chat.
And if she engaged with him, the conversation would soon shift to requests for money—money that was never returned—and links to luxury items he expected her to buy for him.
For years, Mila had been manipulated by the guise of familial affection, duped into giving away large sums. Eventually, she wised up and distanced herself.
Now, seeing that familiar greeting triggered her nausea.
She put his message notifications on silent, turned off her phone screen, and decided not to engage.