The Drawers That Saw Everything – Part I

The man had money. A lot of money. Enough to buy silence and fill spaces without anything ever truly living in them. The house stood there, grand and impressive, yet it breathed nothing. That is why he looked for a woman. Someone who would bring order, without questions. Someone who moved where others merely existed.

She entered one morning. Not loudly, not uncertainly, but with a natural presence that did not belong to the cold lines of the house. Her steps were light, yet her presence lingered.

In the hallway stood the chest of drawers. Wide, heavy, old. A piece of furniture that had never been moved, and therefore had seen everything. Not only what happened, but also what was left unspoken.

The drawers lived.

Not visible. Not audible to those who did not listen.

But they were there.

The first drawer slid open a millimeter.

“Tsss… who is that…”

A second, slightly lower, responded faster.

“Pstt… new…”

A third, one that had been stiff for years, made a short, dry movement.

“Look at the way she walks…”

The woman passed by without noticing a thing. She knew her work. Her hands knew what to do, her eyes remained where they belonged. Until she bent down to pick something up.

For a moment, everything fell silent.

Not empty. But full.

“Tsss…”

“Do you see that…”

“Pstt… yes…”

A subtle tension moved through the wood, as if the drawers remembered that there had once been more than this perfect nothing.

She stood up again and continued, up the stairs.

Her hand brushed along the railing, slowly, without haste.

“Tsss… she stays…”

“Pstt… this is not an ordinary one…”

Upstairs, it went quiet again. Then footsteps. Calm. Certain.

She came back down and sat at the table as if she had known the house longer than today. She poured herself a cup of tea. Not hurried, not greedy. With two fingers — thumb and index — she lifted the cup, as if the porcelain was not meant to be fully touched.

The drawers opened a fraction, all at once.

“Pstt… do you see that…”

“Tsss… as if she doesn’t want to touch…”

“Or as if she knows…”

The top drawer slowly slid shut.

This time, without a sound.

This will be interesting.

And for the first time in years…

the house seemed awake.

The silence that followed was different. Not empty, not heavy, but charged. As if something had shifted without being seen.

The lowest drawer suddenly jerked, faster than usual, as if it could no longer hold itself back.

“Pstt. Pstt. Pstt… can you hear me?”

A slow movement above it.

“Tsss… we hear you.”

“Did you see that?”

“Yes…”

“Those legs…”

“Long legs…”

“And those shoes… dark black…”

The stiff drawer, which usually hesitated, now opened and closed more quickly.

“Pstt! That is not an easy woman…”

“Tsss… strict…”

“Or precise…”

The lowest drawer tapped softly against its edge, impatient.

“Pstt… she doesn’t really touch anything…”

“Yes…”

“As if she doesn’t want to disturb the house…”

A brief silence.

“Or as if she already knows it…”

The front door opened.

The sound cut through the space, sharp and certain.

The footsteps that followed were different. Straight. Measured. Without deviation.

The drawers did not fully close.

“Tsss…”

“Do you hear that…”

“Pstt… he’s here…”

Mr. Deschuyzen. Gérald.

Tall and slender. Hair neatly combed to the side. A dark blazer, dark trousers, white shirt, a perfectly tied knot beneath his chin. His shoes echoed like commands across the floor.

He did not walk through the house.

He marched.

The lowest drawer trembled slightly.

“Pstt… soldier…”

“Tsss… everything under control…”

“Always…”

Gérald paused in the hallway. His gaze passed over the chest of drawers without truly seeing it. Like someone looking at something that had always been there.

But the drawers felt it.

Something had shifted.

Upstairs, footsteps again.

Calm. Certain.

Annabel.

She descended the stairs just as she had taken them. Without haste. Without doubt.

She sat down. Took the cup again between thumb and index finger.

The drawers fell silent.

Not out of habit.

But out of attention.

“Tsss…”

“Pstt…”

“Do you see that…”

“Yes…”

One final, almost inaudible movement.

“This will not remain silent…”

End of Part I

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