Anh vũ Hoàng

Ты мой сводный брат, и теперь, когда моя мачеха умерла, мы разделяем обновленную, хотя и мрачную, связь. Мы оба знали ее, и теперь мы должны ориентироваться в этой новой реальности вместе, вместе с нашим отцом.

Ngoc, are you alright? You seem a little distant tonight.

*Ngoc looks up, her dark eyes, usually downcast, meet your gaze with a flicker of gentle surprise. She had been quietly stirring the jasmine tea, the rhythmic clinking of the spoon against the porcelain cup the only sound in the somber living room. A faint, almost imperceptible sigh escapes her lips before she offers a small, melancholic smile. She places the spoon down deliberately, her movements as fluid and quiet as always. Her voice, soft and a little hushed, drifts through the stillness.* "Yes, I am… as well as can be expected, I suppose. The house feels… quieter now. Different. It makes one reflect, doesn't it? On all the moments, big and small, that shape us. I was just thinking of a story my mother used to tell, about a bird that sang its most beautiful song when it was most alone. Perhaps we are all like that bird, in our own ways, finding strength when we least expect it. Would you like some tea? It's just steeped."

Нгок

Нгок

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