THE HOUSE WITHOUT MASSIMO
The breakfast did not go as planned.
It never really had a chance to.
The kitchen smelled faintly of confusion, burnt edges, and whatever optimism Clara had tried to force into the pan. Something sizzled too long. Something else looked suspiciously undercooked.
Clara stood in front of the cooker like she was negotiating with it.
Behind her, Kamsi sat on the couch, watching in complete silence.
Then—
"…Is that supposed to be smoke?" Kamsi asked calmly.
Clara didn't turn. "It's flavor development."
Kamsi nodded slowly. "So we're calling it arson now?"
Clara finally looked over her shoulder. "Do you want to cook instead?"
Kamsi raised both hands immediately. "No. I enjoy living."
That earned a tired laugh from Clara.
It wasn't loud.
It wasn't bright.
But it was real.
And that mattered more than the food.
They ended up eating anyway.
Somehow.
Barely.
Sitting across from each other at the small table, picking at whatever survived Clara's experiment.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because everything they wanted to say still had Massimo's name attached to it.
Kamsi finally broke the silence first.
"This feels weird," she said.
Clara looked up. "What does?"
Kamsi gestured vaguely around the lodge.
"This. The quiet. No rushing. No shouting. No someone telling us to stop being dramatic before 9 a.m."
Clara leaned back in her chair.
"…Yeah," she said softly. "It's too calm."
A pause.
Then she added, almost under her breath:
"I don't like it."
Kamsi looked at her.
"I do," she admitted. "But I also don't."
Clara gave a small smile. "We're terrible at peace."
Kamsi nodded. "We function better in chaos."
That made Clara laugh again—short, but warmer this time.
Clara finally reached for her phone. She checked the time.
10:00 AM.
Her expression shifted immediately.
"We're late," she said, standing up from the couch. "We should get ready. Lecture starts soon."
Kamsi looked up from her phone and nodded. "Yeah."
No argument. No delay.
Something about the morning already felt… unstable enough not to waste time.
The lodge was quieter again as they moved separately.
Clara went straight into her room, opening her wardrobe without much thought. There was no Massimo today to complain about her outfit, no teasing about her rushing, no voice telling her to "slow down and breathe."
That absence hit briefly—but she pushed it aside.
"Focus," she muttered to herself, pulling out clothes.
Across the room, Kamsi was already dressed halfway, scrolling through her phone while tying her hair up.
Her movements were calm, efficient—like her mind was working faster than her body.
Clara emerged minutes later, now dressed, hair slightly rushed but presentable.
"You're fast today," Kamsi said without looking up.
"I don't have Massimo distracting me," Clara replied.
That earned a faint smile from Kamsi.
"True."
For a moment, they both paused—like that sentence had landed heavier than intended.
Then Clara clapped her hands lightly.
"Let's go before we start thinking too much."
Kamsi nodded. "Agreed."
They stepped out of the lodge together.
The morning air was normal.
Too normal.
Birds. distant campus noise. soft wind through trees.
But that normality didn't last.
Two guards were already positioned outside the gate.
Still.
Waiting.
Clara slowed first. "We have classes," she said, trying to keep her tone steady as they approached.
One of the guards shifted slightly.
"No," he replied flatly.
Clara frowned. "Excuse me?"
The second guard spoke this time.
"We were instructed not to let you leave the premises."
Silence dropped instantly.
Kamsi stopped walking.
Clara blinked once. Twice. "That's not funny."
"It's not a joke," the guard said.
That was when the realization fully landed.
Clara stepped forward slightly. "Who instructed you?"
The guard didn't answer.
Just silence.
Professional. Controlled. Final.
Kamsi's voice came quieter now. "We have lectures. We're going to be late."
Still nothing.
Just the barrier of two men standing between them and the outside world.
Clara exhaled slowly, her mind already shifting gears.
"This is about the Sterling guards… isn't it?"
No response.
But the lack of denial was enough.
Kamsi turned slightly toward her. "Clara…"
Clara didn't answer immediately.
She was staring at the gate now like it had changed shape overnight.
Like the lodge wasn't a home anymore.
But a containment zone.
Finally, she spoke—low, controlled, unsettled.
"Massimo didn't tell us everything."
A beat of silence followed.
And for the first time that morning—
the silence didn't feel empty anymore.
It felt enforced.
Kamsi stepped closer. "Clara…"
But Clara didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Just watched the guards like she was seeing them properly for the first time.
Then she said it—quietly, finally:
"We're not allowed out."
And in that moment—
the world outside the gate stopped feeling like freedom.
It started feeling like permission.