Elena slowly ate a few more spoonfuls of oatmeal, then tore off a small piece of rye bread and dipped it into the bowl before putting it into her mouth.
The bread had already gone a little hard, but once softened in the oatmeal, it was easy enough to eat.
The stewed beans and cabbage beside it were lightly seasoned with only a little salt, with a few pieces of chopped onion mixed in.
For someone who had only just recovered from a fever, the simple meal suited her well.
Martha remained seated beside the bed the entire time.
The smile never left her face as she watched Elena eat by herself.
It seemed that simply seeing her daughter manage an ordinary meal without help was enough to make her happy.
At first, Elena paid little attention to it.
But after eating for a while, she began to notice something strange.
She was eating.
Martha was only sitting there.
In fact, since she had returned to the room, Martha had not even taken a sip of water.
Elena’s wooden spoon slowed.
“Mama.”
“Yes?”
Martha immediately looked at her.
“Where’s your lunch?”
Martha clearly had not expected the question.
“I already ate.”
Elena looked at her without saying anything.
After a moment, she asked,
“What did you eat?”
“I…”
Martha opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Elena waited.
Martha still did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Elena lowered her eyes to the food in front of her.
A large bowl of oatmeal.
Two slices of rye bread.
And a generous portion of stewed beans and cabbage.
From the original Elena’s memories, the Miller family did not live comfortably.
George and Agnes lived in the main farmhouse on Miller Farm, while Thomas and Martha’s family lived in the old orchard cottage on the western side of the property.
Although they slept under different roofs, the family still worked the same fields, and much of what they harvested was stored together on the farm.
Agnes managed most of the family’s money and food.
Even the amount of oats, flour, and beans taken from storage each day was more or less fixed.
It was harvest season now.
Whenever the weather was good, the men and anyone else capable of fieldwork left with their sickles at first light.
They would return around midday to eat, drink, and rest briefly before heading back to the wheat fields in the afternoon.
It was exhausting physical work.
Naturally, everyone needed plenty to eat.
There was no reason for such a large extra portion of food to suddenly appear in the kitchen.
And although Agnes had a sharp tongue, Elena did not think she was the kind of person who would take everyone else’s lunch away just to give an oversized meal to a granddaughter recovering from a fever.
The answer was obvious.
Part of this meal belonged to Martha.
The old Elena had possessed the understanding of a much younger child.
When she was hungry, she ate.
When she saw something she liked, she wanted it.
She never wondered why there always seemed to be a little more food in her bowl than everyone else’s, nor did she notice whether Martha herself had eaten.
But Elena could not pretend not to see it now.
She picked up one of the slices of rye bread, then moved almost half of the beans and cabbage onto the empty plate beside her.
She held it out to Martha.
“Here.”
Martha stared at the plate.
“Why are you giving that to Mama?”
“To eat.”
“I really did eat already.”
“Then what did you eat?”
“…”
Once again, Martha had no answer.
Elena pushed the plate a little closer.
“This was yours, wasn’t it?”
Martha’s expression immediately became uncomfortable.
After a moment, she said quietly,
“You had a fever all night and barely ate anything this morning.
It doesn’t matter if Mama misses one meal.
You’re weak right now.
You need the food more.”
Just as Elena thought.
She sighed inwardly.
Then she looked at Martha more carefully.
The woman was already thin.
Her dress had faded from repeated washing, and an old apron was tied around her waist.
There were visible patches along the cuffs of her sleeves.
Years of work had left her hands rough, with thin calluses across her palms and knuckles.
Then Elena looked down at her own round body.
For a moment, she did not know what to say.
The original Elena had always had a large appetite, but the reason she had grown this well-fed probably also had something to do with her parents giving up part of their own food for her again and again.
“Eat.”
Elena held the plate out again.
Martha shook her head.
“I’m really not hungry.”
“If you don’t eat, I won’t either.”
Elena set her wooden spoon back into the bowl.
Martha immediately became anxious.
“Why aren’t you eating now?
Didn’t you just say you were hungry?”
“I am hungry.”
Elena nodded seriously.
“But if you don’t eat, neither will I.” Find the original chapter at g.com.
“You…”
For once, Martha seemed to have no idea what to do with her daughter.
In the past, she had never needed to worry about Elena refusing food.
As long as something was placed in front of her, the girl would happily hold on to it.
If anyone tried to take even a little, she would refuse to let go.
Sometimes her two younger brothers only had to look at her food for too long, and Elena would immediately pull it closer to herself.
It had never been deliberate selfishness.
She simply had not understood what sharing meant, nor had she realized why the people around her so often gave up their own food for her.
But now…
Her daughter had only just become clear-minded, and she already knew how to worry about her mother.
Martha felt her nose sting again.
She quickly lowered her head, unwilling to let the tears she had only just stopped begin falling again.
“All right.”
“Mama will eat.”
At last, she accepted the plate.
Only then did Elena pick up her wooden spoon again.
“That’s better.”
Martha could not help laughing.
Mother and daughter sat together beside the narrow wooden bed, one holding a bowl and the other a plate as they slowly ate their simple lunch.
Afternoon sunlight streamed through the wooden window.
The faded linen curtain stirred gently in the breeze.
Outside, chickens occasionally clucked near the stone wall, and the old horse snorted beside the water trough.
Farther across Miller Farm, someone was sorting the rope and empty grain sacks that would be taken back to the wheat fields.
The cart seemed to have been hitched up again as well.
Its heavy wooden wheels rolled a short distance over the gravel before stopping.
Elena listened to the sounds outside as she ate.
Everything here was completely different from her previous life.
There were no cars passing on the road.
No phones.
No machines humming constantly in the background.
Most of what she could hear around the old orchard cottage came from people’s footsteps, animals, opening and closing doors, and the rustling of wind through the trees and distant wheat fields.
It was unfamiliar.
But after listening for a while, she did not find it unpleasant.
The two ate quietly for some time before Elena remembered something far more important.
Her movements gradually slowed.
“Mama.”
“What is it?”
Martha immediately looked up.
Elena did not answer right away.
Instead, she glanced toward the door.
The thick wooden door was firmly closed.
She could occasionally hear voices elsewhere on the farm, but they came from far enough away that no one should be able to hear them clearly.
Only then did Elena lower her voice.
“There’s something I want you to promise me.”
Martha blinked, then smiled.
“You don’t have to be so formal with your own mother.
Just tell me what it is.”
Elena considered her words before speaking seriously.
“For now, don’t tell anyone that I can speak normally and understand things.”
The smile on Martha’s face disappeared.
“Why?”
“Other than Papa, don’t tell anyone yet.”
Now Martha was even more confused.
As far as she was concerned, this was wonderful news.
Over the years, Elena had been bullied countless times because she was different.
Many villagers treated her as a joke.
Even children younger than her sometimes gathered around to make fun of her or deliberately snatched things from her hands.
Every time Martha learned about it, her heart ached.
But she had laundry to wash, meals to prepare, work to do during the busy seasons, and two younger sons to care for.
She could not stay beside Elena every moment of the day.
For years, Martha’s greatest wish had been for her daughter to get better.
Even if Elena became only a little more capable and could take care of herself, Martha would have been satisfied.
Now that impossible wish had somehow come true, she wanted nothing more than to tell Thomas, tell the entire family, perhaps even tell all of Oakridge Village so that everyone who had ever laughed at Elena would know that her daughter was better.
Yet Elena wanted to hide it.
Martha could not understand.
“Elena, this is a good thing.
Why can’t we tell everyone?”
Elena had expected the question.
Of course, she could not tell Martha the real reason.
What was she supposed to say?
That the original Elena had most likely died in yesterday’s accident, and that the person now living in her body had come from another world?
Even if Martha believed her, allowing such a thing to become known would do Elena no good at all.
More importantly, she still knew far too little about this world.
She did not even fully understand every member of the Miller family, how everyone was related, who genuinely cared for the original Elena, and who had always considered her a burden.
Until she understood her situation properly, she had no intention of revealing such a dramatic change to everyone around her.
But none of those reasons could be explained to Martha.
Elena thought for a moment.
Then she came up with something Martha was far more likely to accept.
“While I was unconscious, I had a strange dream.”
“A dream?”
Martha immediately became serious.
“What kind of dream?”
Elena set down her wooden spoon.
“I dreamed I was in a very dark place.
There was nothing around me, and no matter how far I walked, I couldn’t find my way home.”
She spoke slowly, as though genuinely trying to remember.
“Then I saw a bright light ahead of me.
I thought someone was standing inside it, but no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t see their face.”
Martha was completely focused on her now.
Elena watched her expression before continuing.
I shouldn’t be frightened or surrounded by too many people.”
“If everyone suddenly finds out and comes here asking what happened, or if they all stand around questioning me…”
She deliberately paused.
“Maybe I’ll become the way I was before.”
Martha’s face changed instantly.
“You could go back to how you were?”
“That’s what the person in the dream said.”
Elena nodded without changing her expression.
The explanation struck exactly where Martha was most vulnerable.
No doctor had ever been able to explain the original Elena’s condition.
She and Thomas had spent years taking their daughter from one doctor to another and trying everything they could think of, yet nothing had ever truly changed.
Now Elena had suddenly become clear-minded overnight.
That alone was beyond anything Martha could explain.
And Martha had always been a devout woman.
When faced with something beyond ordinary understanding, she naturally treated it with a certain amount of reverence.
So rather than questioning Elena’s story, she immediately became nervous.
“Then we won’t tell anyone!”
Martha was so alarmed that she forgot about the bread in her hand.
“No one.
Mama promises!”
Then she suddenly remembered her husband.
“What about your papa?
Can’t he know either?”
“Papa can know.”
Elena shook her head.
From the memories she had recovered, Thomas genuinely loved his daughter.
Besides, Martha and Thomas were husband and wife.
Hiding something this important from him for long would hardly be realistic.
“Other than Papa, don’t tell anyone for now.”
“All right.
All right.”
Martha nodded repeatedly.
“When your papa comes home, I’ll tell only him.
Quietly.
I won’t let anyone else hear.”
Then another concern occurred to her.
“How long do we have to keep it secret?”
“A few days first.”
Elena thought about it.
“Once I’ve completely recovered and we’re sure I won’t go back to the way I was, we can tell them.”
Martha immediately thought that made sense.
“Yes.
That’s better.”
“You only fell down that slope yesterday, and your fever has just gone down.
We really shouldn’t have too many people coming over and bothering you.”
The more Martha thought about it, the more seriously she took the warning from Elena’s dream.
Finally, she put the rye bread back onto her plate, clasped her hands in front of her chest, and bowed her head.
“Thank You, God, for watching over us…”
“Thank You for giving my child back to me.
Please continue to protect her.
Keep her safe, and don’t let her suffer anymore…”
Elena sat beside her, watching Martha pray with such sincerity that she felt a little guilty.
After all, the so-called dream was something she had made up on the spot.
Still, it was the safest solution for now.
With this explanation, Martha would not rush to announce Elena’s recovery to everyone.
That would give Elena enough time to understand the family and the world around her.
As for how she would explain everything later, that was a problem for another day.
When Martha finally finished praying and lifted her head, Elena glanced at the rye bread she had put down.
“All right.
Eat first.”
Martha was still slightly distracted.
Elena looked pointedly at the plate.
“And don’t try to save it for me again.”
Martha looked a little embarrassed but picked up the bread.
“I know.
Mama will eat.”
Satisfied, Elena lowered her head and continued with her own lunch.
Outside, the wind swept through the old orchard and across the ripe wheat fields beyond, stirring the faded linen curtain beside the window.
Another rumble of wooden wheels came from farther across the farm.
It seemed the family was almost ready to return to the fields.
Elena slowly chewed her rye bread as another thought settled into her mind.
Avoiding questions about her sudden recovery was not the only reason she wanted to keep the truth quiet for a few days.
She also wanted to use that time to watch the people in the Miller family.
The original Elena had possessed the mind of a five- or six-year-old child.
To many people, she had simply been a foolish girl who understood nothing and remembered even less.
Because of that, people had little reason to be careful about what they said or did around her.
Who genuinely cared about her?
Who only pretended to?
Who had always thought of her as a burden?
And who might have taken advantage of the fact that she did not understand what was happening around her?
If Elena kept her change from becoming too obvious for a while, she would eventually see for herself.
The old Elena had not understood these things.
When people laughed at her, she laughed with them.
When someone lied to her, she soon forgot.
When someone took something from her, she might cry for a while, only to forget about it by the next day.
But things were different now.
Now she could understand.
She could see.
And she could remember.
Everyone had grown accustomed to the confused girl who never seemed to understand what was happening around her.
There was no reason to tell them just yet— that the girl they had once been able to fool and bully had finally, truly awakened.