The phone rang at half past eleven at night. Emily had just started to drift off to sleep next to the rhythmic breathing of her husband when the sharp ring startled her awake. Her heart skipped anxiously—nothing good ever happens at this hour.
“James,” she nudged her husband gently. “James, wake up! The phone is ringing.”
He sat up abruptly in bed and grabbed the receiver. Emily watched his face closely—it seemed to change with each passing second, growing paler and paler.
“How…when?” he asked hoarsely. “Yes…yes…I understand. I’ll be there right away.”
James slowly hung up the phone. His fingers trembled slightly.
“What happened?” Emily whispered, already sensing the gravity of the situation.
“Paul and Sophie…” he swallowed hard. “A car accident. Both of them. Instantly.”
The room was enveloped in a heavy silence, disturbed only by the ticking of the clock. Emily stared at her husband, trying to process the reality.
Just two days ago, they’d all been gathered in the kitchen, sharing tea and listening to Sophie talk about her new cake recipe. Paul, James’s best friend since their university days, had been entertaining them with his fishing tales.
“And what about Lucy?” Emily suddenly remembered. “Oh God, what about Lucy?”
“She was at home,” James replied while hastily pulling on his trousers. “I have to go, Em. There’s…there’s identification and all that.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“No!” he turned sharply. “We can’t leave Hannah alone. She doesn’t need to be frightened in the middle of the night.”
Emily nodded. He was right—there was no need to involve their twelve-year-old daughter in this tragedy, at least not yet.
She didn’t sleep a wink that night, wandering around the house, checking the time repeatedly. She peeked in on Hannah, who was sleeping soundly, her hand tucked under her cheek, her red hair spread out on the pillow. So innocent, so defenseless.
James came back in the early morning—haggard, with red-rimmed eyes.
“It’s all confirmed,” he said wearily, collapsing into a chair. “A head-on collision…with a truck. They didn’t stand a chance.”
“What will happen to Lucy now?” Emily asked quietly, placing a cup of strong coffee in front of her husband.
“I don’t know. Her grandmother is the only family she has left, and she’s too old to take care of her.”
Silence fell between them. Emily gazed out the window, watching the cold, gray dawn unfold. Lucy, James’s goddaughter, was Hannah’s age—a quiet, blonde girl who always seemed to stay a little apart.
“You know,” James began slowly, “I’ve been thinking…maybe we should take her in.”
Emily turned abruptly:
“Are you serious?”
“Why not? We have the space, a spare room. After all, I am her godfather. We can’t just let her go to the orphanage!”
“James, this is…this is very serious. We need to think this through. We should talk to Hannah about it.”
“What’s there to think about?” he pounded the table with his fist. “The girl has lost her parents! My goddaughter! I couldn’t live with myself if I left her behind!”
Emily bit her lip. He was right, of course. But everything was happening so fast, and so unexpectedly.
“Mum, Dad, what’s going on?” Hannah’s sleepy voice startled them both. “Why are you up so early?”
They exchanged glances. The moment of truth had arrived sooner than they’d anticipated.
“Sweetheart,” Emily began, “take a seat. We have…some very bad news.”
Hannah listened silently, her eyes growing wider and wider. When her father mentioned Lucy coming to live with them, she shot up from her chair:
“No!” she exclaimed. “I don’t want it! Let her go to her grandmother!”
“Hannah!” James reprimanded sharply. “How can you be so heartless? She’s going through such a terrible loss…”
“What’s it got to do with me?” Hannah’s eyes flashed defiantly. “They aren’t my problems! I don’t want to share my home! Or you!”
She stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. Emily looked helplessly at her husband:
“Maybe we really shouldn’t rush into this?”
“No,” he replied firmly. “This is decided. Lucy will live with us. Hannah will come around.”
A week later, Lucy moved in—quiet, pale, with a distant look in her eyes. She barely spoke, only nodding in response to questions.
Emily tried to surround her with care, cooking her favorite meals and buying new butterfly-printed bedding.
Hannah, on the other hand, made a point of ignoring Lucy. She’d lock herself in her room, and if they crossed paths in the hallway, she’d turn away and walk past her.
“Stop behaving like that!” her father scolded. “Show some compassion!”
“What am I doing wrong?” Hannah retorted. “I just don’t notice her. I have the right! This is my house!”
The tension in the house intensified each day. Emily was caught in the middle, trying to smooth over the rough edges. But the more she tried, the worse things seemed to get.
Then, suddenly, her favorite earrings disappeared. Gold with small diamonds—James’s gift for their tenth wedding anniversary.
“She took them!” Hannah blurted out when Emily discovered the loss. “I saw her go into your room when you weren’t home!”
“That’s not true!” Lucy spoke up for the first time. “I didn’t take anything! I’m not a thief!”
She broke into tears and ran to her room. James glared at their daughter:
“Did you do this on purpose, hmm? Trying to drive her away?”
“I’m telling the truth!” Hannah stomped her foot. “She’s pretending! Acting all innocent, but really…”
“Enough!” Emily interrupted. “Let’s not fight. The earrings will turn up. Maybe I just put them somewhere and forgot.”
But then, three days later, a ring went missing—a memento from Emily’s mother.
“So that just vanished too, did it?” Hannah jeered. “Or shall we pretend nothing’s happening?”
She stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips, like a little fury. Lucy froze in the doorway, biting her lip and blinking rapidly, as if holding back tears.
Emily looked back and forth between the girls. For the first time, she felt she was beginning to understand something.
Emily sat on the edge of the bathtub, turning a bottle of antiseptic in her hands. A simple solution occurred to her accidentally—she’d been treating a paper cut on Lucy’s finger when the idea struck. Antiseptic. As noticeable as the truth and stubborn as a lie.
She waited until everyone was asleep, then took out her jewelry box. Carefully, she marked each ring and earring with a tiny dot.
“What am I doing?” she whispered into the darkness. “God, what has it come to…”
The next morning, a pendant disappeared. At the breakfast table, it was silent. Lucy poked at her porridge, while Hannah stared defiantly out the window. James sipped his coffee grimly.
“Girls,” Emily tried to maintain a calm tone. “Show me your hands.”
They looked at her in confusion.
“Why?” Hannah frowned.
“Just show me.”
Lucy was the first to extend her open palms—clean, without a trace. But Hannah hesitated.
“I won’t!” she tried to stand up from the table.
“Sit down!” James’s voice thundered. “Show your mother your hands now!”
Biting her lip, Hannah extended her hands. Tiny green dots were visible on her fingertips.
The kitchen was engulfed in a ringing silence. The ticking of the wall clock, the hum of water pipes, and James’s heavy breathing were the only sounds.
“You…” he choked with anger. “You accused Lucy, but you…”
Hannah jumped up, knocking over the chair. Her eyes were filled with panic and something else—perhaps shame?
“I hate you all!” she screamed. “I hate everyone!”
Before anyone could stop her, she ran to the hallway, slamming the front door behind her.
“Hannah!” Emily rushed after her, but James held her back by the shoulders.
“Let her cool off,” he said curtly. “She needs to reflect on her behavior.”
But as hours passed, Hannah hadn’t returned. Her phone went unanswered. By evening, Emily was beside herself with worry.
“We need to call the police,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s getting dark…”
Just then, Lucy, who had been silent all day, suddenly perked up:
“I think I know where she might be.”
“How?” Emily asked in surprise.
“I…sometimes saw her. She likes to sit in the old gazebo in the park. You know, by the pond.”
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” James snapped.
“You never asked,” Lucy shrugged. “I’ll go get her. Alone. Please.”
Emily exchanged a glance with her husband. There was something new in Lucy’s voice—a note of confidence? Determination?
“Go,” she nodded.
An hour passed. Then another. Dusk was setting in when the doorbell rang.
There stood both girls—disheveled, flushed. Hannah’s eyes were puffy from crying, but the anger had vanished from them. And Lucy… Lucy was smiling for the first time since she’d come.
“Mum,” Hannah said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll bring everything back.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Emily pulled her daughter into an embrace. “I know.”
“It’s just…I thought…” Hannah hiccupped. “I thought you’d love her more now. She’s so unlucky. And I…”
“Silly,” Lucy suddenly said. “You’re silly, Hannah. You can’t steal love. It’s either there or it isn’t.”
Emily stared at her goddaughter in amazement. How could such wisdom come from a twelve-year-old girl?
“We talked,” Lucy explained, noticing Emily’s gaze. “A long talk. About everything.”
“And you know what?” Hannah suddenly smiled through her tears. “She’s amazing. Our Lucy. Can you believe she loves ‘Harry Potter’ too! And she plays chess! Mum, can she sleep in my room? Please!”
Emily felt a lump rise in her throat. She hugged both girls tightly. Somewhere in the house, James blew his nose loudly.
Later, as Emily tucked the girls into bed, she heard them whispering:
“Hey, can I call you my sister?” Hannah’s voice drifted through the door.
“Sure,” Lucy’s voice held a smile. “On one condition.”
“What?”
“You’ll teach me how to make friendship bracelets? Yours are really cool…”
Emily quietly closed the door. In the kitchen, James was waiting with two glasses.
“You know,” he mused while pouring the ruby liquid, “I bet Paul and Sophie are happy now. Up there.”
“You think so?” she took her glass.
“I’m certain. Their girl is at home. In a family. And now she has a sister.”
Outside, the stars twinkled. In the distance, dogs barked. And in the children’s room, two girls, once strangers, whispered about their secrets, slowly becoming true sisters.
