**Diary Entry**
My mother, Eleanor, had been ill for a long time. Every day was a struggle for her, yet even in the hardest moments, she found the strength to encourage me. That morning, lying against her pillows with trembling hands, she smiled faintly and whispered, “Lydia, I always dreamed you’d find steady work. You can do it, love. I believe in you.”
I sighed, gazing out the window. “Mum, I saw an advertthey need a cleaner at one of those big old houses in Surrey. Should I try?”
She nodded, hope flickering in her eyes. “Give it a go, darling. Maybe this will change our luck.”
Those words became my sign. Gathering my courage, I walked to the manora grand, white-columned house with tall windows. My heart raced as I stepped inside. The owner, a young man named Edmund, studied me briefly, asked a few simple questions, andunexpectedlyhired me on the spot.
I could hardly believe it. *Mum was right,* I thought. *This is fate.*
On my first day, while dusting the upstairs rooms, I heard a faint rustling. I opened a doorand froze. Inside the wardrobe stood a little boy, no older than seven or eight. His wide eyes were wary, his lips sealed tight.
“Hello there, sweetheart. Whats your name?” I asked gently.
No reply. Just a quiet breath and a trembling stare.
I didnt know what to think. Later, I found Edmund in the kitchen. “Excuse me,” I began hesitantly, “but why is your son hiding in the wardrobe?”
He looked up, his voice low and distant. “Pay no mind. Thats just how he is. Three years nownot a single word. He only leaves to use the loo.”
My chest tightened. “Three years? But why?”
“After the accident,” he murmured. “We lost his mum. Since then, hes shut himself away. Doctors, therapists, specialistsnone of them helped.”
I looked down, something aching inside me. *I have to try,* I decided.
From then on, every day, Id visit the boys room. I didnt expect answersI just talked. “Morning, sunshine! Its a lovely day out.” “You know, lifes still beautiful, even when its hard.” “Youve got the kindest eyes Ive ever seen.”
I told him about flowers, about my mum, about my childhood. And the boy just stood there, listening. Until one day, when I greeted him, he stepped out of the wardrobe. Slowly. Uncertainly. And held out a hairbrush.
“Would you like me to brush your hair?” I asked. When he gave the slightest nod, I smiled through tears.
It became our little ritual. Every morning, hed sit on the stool while I brushed his hair, humming the lullaby my mother used to sing.
One day, Edmund paused outside the door. Inside, he heard soft voices. Peering in, he frozehis son sat before the mirror, letting me touch his hair, a faint smile on his face.
“How?” he whispered. “Shes done what no doctor could.”
The next morning, at breakfast, the impossible happened. His son, barefoot in pyjamas, walked into the kitchen. Stopped. Looked at him. “Morning, Dad,” he said.
Silence. Thena burst of joy so loud it shattered the stillness. Edmund dropped to his knees, clutching his son. “Good Lord you spoke!” he choked out, tears streaming.
I lingered by the door, my heart glowing.
Edmund stood, facing me. “Lydia, thank you. You did the impossible. Since my wife died, hes lived in silence in darkness. You gave him his voice back. You gave me my son.”
He hesitated, then added, “Name anything you want. Its yours.”
I looked down. “Theres only one thing. My mum shes very ill. She needs treatment we cant afford.”
“Consider it done,” he said firmly.
That same day, my mother was admitted to the finest hospital in London. The doctors worked miracles. A month later, she stood by the window, smiling as I held her hand.
“You didnt just change our lives, love,” she said. “You changed someone elses fate.”
I smiled. “No, Mum. I just told that boy what you always told menever give up, even when its hard.”
Weeks passed. The little boy now ran through the garden, laughing, playing. Sometimes, Edmund just watched themhis son and me. For the first time in years, the house felt alive again.
Because sometimes, to break silence, you dont need medicine. You just need a heart that knows how to listen.
