Chapter 2: The Silent Room.
Chapter 2: The Silent Room
The sun filtered through gauzy curtains, casting soft golden stripes across Ava's bed. But warmth didn't reach her bones. It hadn't in a long time.
She got up slowly, each step across the unfamiliar floor like walking through memory fog. Her suitcase sat untouched in the corner, half-zipped, like even her belongings weren't sure if they belonged here.
After a bland breakfast and a forced smile from the nurse on duty, Ava wandered the halls of the center. The place was beautiful, yes—but it was the kind of beauty that came from grief turned into art. Sculptures of open hands. Paintings with blurred faces. Quotes on the walls that tried too hard to heal wounds they didn't know.
She stopped walking when she found it.
At the end of the west hallway, there was a door. Not grand or decorated, but… different.
Dark wood. Brass knob. A small metal plate on it with no number—just a single word etched in delicate cursive:
"Silence."
Ava reached for the knob.
Locked.
She pressed her ear to the door. Nothing.
Not even a creak.
It felt like the room itself was waiting.
A woman's voice drifted from behind her. "No one goes in there unless it lets you."
Ava turned. It was the older lady from reception—gray hair, kind eyes, but something unreadable behind them.
"What do you mean?" Ava asked.
"The Silent Room opens on its own," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "Usually at night. Sometimes never."
"Why?"
"Some say it remembers. Some say it listens." She gave Ava a gentle look. "But no one plays the piano in there unless they've lost something."
Ava blinked. "There's a piano?"
The woman didn't answer. She just smiled and walked away, her footsteps soft on the wooden floor.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Ava passed the hallway again.
The door was still closed. Still locked.
But just as she turned to leave—
A sound.
A note.
Soft. Barely audible. But there.
She froze.
The melody followed, weaving through the air like a ghost brushing past her skin.
Slow. Sad. Beautiful.
Ava turned back.
The door was cracked open.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
Her heart pounded. She took a single step closer—
and the music stopped.
Cold silence pressed in.
Ava stood in the dark, staring at the door that had just welcomed her.
And wondered, with a tremble in her chest—
Who was playing that piano…
in a room that's always supposed to be silent?