The days blurred together for Maria after her uncle's visit, the weight of his words settling like a heavy stone in her chest. She stopped writing to Georg, her pen remaining untouched on the desk, the letters she had planned to send abandoned. If Georg was truly never coming back, if he had chosen to stay in Italy, then what was the point? Her hope had withered, replaced by a hollow ache that seemed to grow with each passing day.

She spent most of her time in her room, the once comforting space now a prison of her own making. The light that streamed through the window felt harsh, the vibrant colors of the garden outside mocking her despair. She barely ate, the thought of food turning her stomach, and the energy she once had for her daily tasks drained away. Even her work as a companion to the elderly woman felt like an insurmountable burden.

The woman she cared for had noticed the change in her, of course. She would often ask Maria if she was alright, her voice tinged with genuine concern. But Maria would always force a smile, insisting that she was fine, that she was just tired. The woman would nod, not entirely convinced, but she didn't press further, respecting Maria's need for privacy.

Hede, too, had tried to reach out. She had noticed the absence of Maria's laughter in the garden, the way she no longer joined her for tea or took walks with her. Hede had always been like a big sister to Maria, protective and kind, but now, Maria found it too painful to be around her. Hede reminded her too much of Georg, of the life she had lost, and she couldn't bear it. When Hede had come to her room one afternoon, gently knocking on the door, Maria had pretended to be asleep, hoping that Hede would leave her be. She had heard the soft sigh on the other side of the door, the reluctant footsteps retreating down the hallway, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over her.

But the guilt was nothing compared to the emptiness. She felt like a shell of herself, moving through the motions of her life without truly living. The vibrancy that had once defined her had dimmed, and in its place was a quiet, gnawing despair that she couldn't seem to shake.

Maria lay in bed one morning, staring blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting aimlessly. She had lost track of how many days had passed since she last wrote to Georg, since she last believed that he might return. Her uncle's words echoed in her mind, reinforcing the belief that she had been foolish to hope for anything more.

A faint knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned her head slightly, expecting it to be Hede again. But when no one entered, she realized it was the housekeeper, calling out to her from the other side of the door. She must've been very worried, Maria thought, for her to step in the cottage. She knew her uncle rarely interacted with the other staff of the von Trapp family.

"Maria, dear, are you alright?" the woman's voice was soft, filled with concern. "You haven't been yourself lately. Can I get you something? Some tea, perhaps?"

Maria closed her eyes, swallowing the lump in her throat. She didn't want to talk, didn't want to face the reality of her situation. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice hoarse from disuse. "Just tired, that's all."

There was a pause, and Maria could almost feel the woman's hesitation through the door. "Alright, dear," the woman said finally, her tone gentle. "But if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'm here for you."

Maria didn't respond, waiting until she heard the woman's footsteps fade away before she let out a shaky breath. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushing it away with the back of her hand. She didn't want to cry, didn't want to feel anything at all.

But the tears came anyway, silent and unbidden, as she curled up on her side, her body trembling with the force of her grief. She had tried so hard to be strong, to hold on to the belief that things would get better, but now she felt as if she was drowning in the sorrow that had taken root in her heart.

As the tears continued to fall, Maria knew that something had to change. She couldn't go on like this, trapped in a cycle of despair and isolation. But the path forward seemed impossible to find, and all she could do was lie there, lost in the overwhelming pain of a future that no longer held the promise of happiness.

A gentle but persistent knock on Maria's door pulled her from her thoughts. She wiped away the lingering tears and sat up slowly, forcing herself to focus as she heard Franz's familiar voice calling out to her.

"Maria," he said, his tone neutral but with an edge that hinted at something more. "I need to speak with you."

Maria hesitated before responding, her heart heavy with dread. "Come in," she finally said, her voice barely audible.

Franz pushed the door open and stepped inside, his expression unreadable. He glanced around the room, taking in the disarray that mirrored Maria's inner turmoil. For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes—pity, perhaps, or regret—but it was quickly masked by his usual indifference.

"I've just spoken with Johann," Franz began, standing awkwardly near the door. "He's decided that the family doesn't need me as a gardener anymore. I'm getting old, and it's time for me to move on."

Maria blinked, confusion washing over her. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Where will you go?"

Franz avoided her gaze, shifting uncomfortably. "Johann found me another job," he said, his tone clipped. "Something more suitable for a man of my age. We're leaving the estate, Maria. Today."

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight, and Maria felt her heart sink. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Leaving? After everything, now they were being forced to leave? It didn't make sense.

"Why?" she whispered, her eyes searching his face for answers. "Why now?"

Franz hesitated, glancing at the floor as if he could find the words there. The truth was, he knew exactly why they were being sent away, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her the whole story. Johann had made it clear that Maria's presence was no longer welcome, and Hede's growing concern for her friend had only made things worse in Johann's eyes. It was easier for Johann to rid himself of them both, to remove the "problem" from his household entirely.

"It's just time for a change," Franz replied, his voice lacking conviction. "The family doesn't need me anymore, and it's best if we move on. Johann's made arrangements, and we have to leave today."

Maria stared at him, trying to process the sudden news. She felt a mix of emotions—shock, fear, and a deep sense of betrayal. But most of all, she felt an overwhelming sense of loss. The von Trapp estate had been the closest thing to a home she had ever known, and now, even that was being taken away from her.

"What about Hede?" Maria asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "She's my friend... does she know?"

Franz's expression hardened slightly at the mention of Hede. He had seen how much the young woman had cared for Maria, how she had tried to reach out to her despite Johann's disapproval. It had been Hede's concern that had sealed their fate, prompting Johann to take drastic action to "protect" his family.

"She knows," Franz said shortly, though he didn't elaborate. He didn't want to dwell on the details, the lies that had been fed to Hede, the manipulations that had led to this moment. "But there's nothing more to be done. Johann's made up his mind."

Maria felt a lump forming in her throat, her vision blurring with tears. She wanted to protest, to fight against the decision, but she knew it was futile. Johann's word was final, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

Franz sighed, seeing the pain in Maria's eyes but knowing there was nothing he could say to make it better. He had never been good at comforting others, and he wasn't about to start now. He had his orders, and he would follow them, no matter how much it hurt Maria.

"We need to pack our things," he said, his tone gruff. "We're leaving within the hour."

Maria nodded numbly, the reality of the situation settling in. She felt like a ship adrift in a storm, with no anchor to hold her steady. As Franz turned to leave, she sat there for a moment, staring blankly at the walls of the room that had been her sanctuary for so long.

When the door closed behind Franz, Maria finally allowed herself to cry, the tears spilling over as she realized just how much she had lost. Georg was gone, Hede was beyond her reach, and now she was being forced to leave the only home she had ever known. She felt utterly alone, with no one to turn to, and no idea what the future held.

As she began to gather her few belongings, Maria tried to push down the rising tide of despair, clinging to the faint hope that somehow, someday, things would change. But for now, all she could do was follow Franz's lead and prepare to leave behind the life she had known, stepping into an uncertain future where the only certainty was that nothing would ever be the same again.