The phone rang at half past eleven at night. Emily had just started to drift off to the steady breathing of her husband when the sharp trill jolted her awake. Her heart sank with anxiety—nothing good happens at this hour.
“Tom,” she gently nudged her husband. “Tom, wake up! The phone.”
With a start, he sat up in bed and grabbed the receiver. Emily anxiously watched his face as it changed by the second, growing paler.
“When… how?” he asked in a hushed voice. “Yes… okay… I’ll be right there.”
Tom slowly put down the phone, his fingers trembling.
“What happened?” Emily whispered, suspecting something irreversible had occurred.
“Peter and Natalie…” he swallowed. “An accident. Both… gone.”
The room was enveloped in a heavy silence, broken only by the ticking of the clock. Emily looked at her husband in disbelief.
Just two days ago, they were all sitting in the kitchen together, drinking tea. Natalie was sharing a new cake recipe, and Peter, Tom’s best friend from college days, was telling fishing stories.
“What about Grace?” Emily suddenly recalled. “Oh God, what about Grace?”
“She was at home,” Tom said, hurriedly pulling on his trousers. “I have to go, Emily. They need identification and all that.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No!” he turned sharply. “Alice would be alone. We shouldn’t scare her in the middle of the night.”
Emily nodded in agreement. He was right—there was no need to involve their twelve-year-old daughter in such a tragedy. At least, not yet.
She didn’t sleep at all that night. She wandered through the house, constantly checking the time. She peeked in on Alice, who was sleeping soundly with one hand under her cheek, her auburn hair spread across the pillow. So peaceful, so vulnerable.
Tom returned at dawn, looking haggard, his eyes red.
“It’s confirmed,” he said wearily, collapsing into a chair. “A head-on collision with a truck. They didn’t stand a chance.”
“What’s going to happen to Grace now?” Emily asked softly, placing a strong cup of coffee in front of him.
“I don’t know. She only has an elderly grandmother left in the countryside, barely able to walk.”
They fell silent. Emily gazed out the window at the grey, dreary dawn. Grace, Tom’s goddaughter, was the same age as their Alice. A quiet, fair-haired girl who always kept to herself.
“You know,” Tom said slowly, “maybe we should take her in.”
Emily turned sharply.
“Are you serious?”
“Why not? We have space, a spare room. I’m her godfather, after all. We can’t just send her to an orphanage!”
“Tom, this is… it’s a big decision. We need to think this through. Discuss it with Alice.”
“What’s there to think about?” he thumped the table with his fist. “She’s lost her parents! My goddaughter! I couldn’t live with myself if I abandoned her.”
Emily bit her lip. Of course, he was right, but it was all happening so quickly, so suddenly.
“Mum, Dad, what happened?” Alice’s sleepy voice made them both jump. “Why are you up so early?”
They exchanged glances. The moment of truth had come sooner than expected.
“Sweetheart,” Emily began, “have a seat. We have some bad news.”
Alice listened quietly, her eyes growing wider and wider. When her father mentioned Grace coming to live with them, she suddenly stood up.
“No!” she shouted. “I don’t want her here! Let her go to her grandmother’s!”
“Alice!” Tom rebuked her. “How can you be so heartless? She’s going through a terrible time.”
“And what about me?” Alice’s eyes flashed. “These aren’t my problems! I don’t want to share our house with her! Or share you!”
She stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door. Emily looked helplessly at her husband.
“Maybe we should really take it slow?”
“No,” he said firmly. “It’s decided. Grace will live with us. Alice will get used to it.”
A week later, Grace moved in. Quiet and pale, with empty 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-patterned linens.
Alice, however, deliberately ignored Grace. She locked herself in her room and when they crossed paths in the hallway, she turned away and walked past.
“Stop behaving like this!” her father scolded. “Show some compassion!”
“What am I doing?” Alice retorted. “I’m just not noticing her. I have that right! It’s my house!”
The tension in the house continued to grow. Emily was caught between the girls, trying to smooth out the rough patches. But the harder she tried, the worse things got.
Then her earrings went missing. Her favorite, gold ones with tiny diamonds—a gift from Tom for their tenth wedding anniversary.
“She took them!” Alice declared when Emily discovered the loss. “I saw her going into your bedroom when you weren’t home!”
“That’s not true!” Grace spoke up for the first time. “I didn’t take anything! I’m not a thief!”
She burst into tears and ran to her room. Tom glared at his daughter.
“You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Trying to drive her away?”
“I’m telling the truth!” Alice stamped her foot. “She’s just pretending to be miserable, but really…”
“Enough!” Emily interrupted. “Let’s not fight. The earrings will turn up. Maybe I just misplaced them.”
But three days later, Emily’s mother’s ring went missing from the jewelry box.
“And this disappeared by accident too?” Alice asked sarcastically. “Or should we pretend nothing’s going on?”
She stood in the middle of the living room, arms akimbo, like a small fury. Grace, standing in the doorway, bit her lips, blinking rapidly to hold back tears.
Emily glanced back and forth between the two girls. For the first time in days, she felt like she was starting to understand something.
Emily sat on the edge of the bathtub, turning a bottle of antiseptic in her hands. A simple solution came to her quite by accident while she was treating Grace’s paper cut. The green antiseptic was as indelible as a lie, and as visible as the truth.
Waiting until everyone was asleep, she retrieved the jewelry box. Each ring, each earring, was marked with a tiny dot.
“What am I doing?” she whispered into the darkness. “God, what have we come to…”
The next morning, her pendant went missing. Silence hung over breakfast. Grace poked at her porridge, Alice stared out the window, and Tom sipped his coffee gloomily.
“Girls,” Emily tried to speak calmly. “Show me your hands.”
They looked at her in astonishment.
“Why?” Alice frowned.
“Just show me.”
Grace was the first to extend her open palms—clean, without a single spot. But Alice hesitated.
“I won’t!” she attempted to rise from the table.
“Sit!” her father’s voice boomed. “Show your hands to your mother, now!”
Biting her lip, Alice held out her hands. Tiny green dots marked her fingertips.
The kitchen was filled with a tense silence. Only the ticking of the wall clock, the hum of the pipes, and Tom’s heavy breathing could be heard.
“You…” he was choked with anger. “You accused Grace, and yet you…”
Alice jumped up, knocking over her chair. Fear and something else—perhaps shame?—swirled in her eyes.
“I hate you!” she shouted. “I hate all of you!”
Before anyone could stop her, she stormed into the hallway, slamming the front door.
“Alice!” Emily moved to follow, but her husband restrained her by the shoulders.
“Let her clear her head,” he said firmly. “Let her think about her behavior.”
But hours passed, and Alice didn’t return. The phone remained silent. By evening, Emily was growing frantic.
“We need to call the police,” she said in a trembling voice. “It’s getting dark…”
Just then Grace, who had been silent all day, suddenly stirred.
“I think I know where she might be.”
“How?” Emily asked, surprised.
“I… I sometimes saw her. She likes to sit in the old gazebo in the park, by the pond.”
“Why didn’t you say earlier?” Tom demanded.
“You didn’t ask,” Grace shrugged. “Let me go get her. Alone. Please.”
Emily glanced at her husband. There was something in Grace’s voice—a new, unfamiliar note. Confidence? Determination?
“Go,” she nodded.
An hour passed. Then another. Dusk had settled outside when the doorbell rang.
Both girls stood on the doorstep—disheveled, cheeks flushed. Alice’s eyes were swollen from crying, but they no longer held anger. And Grace… Grace was smiling for the first time.
“Mum,” Alice said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll return everything.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Emily hugged her daughter. “I know.”
“I just thought…” Alice sniffled. “I thought you’d love her more. She’s just so sad. And I…”
“Silly,” Grace suddenly said. “You’re silly, Alice. You can’t steal love. It’s either there or it’s not.”
Emily stared at her stepdaughter in amazement. How did a twelve-year-old girl possess such wisdom?
“We talked,” Grace explained, noticing Emily’s look. “We talked for a long time. About everything.”
“And you know what?” Alice suddenly smiled through her tears. “She’s cool. Our Grace is. Imagine, she loves ‘Harry Potter’ too! And she plays chess! Mum, can she share my room? Please?”
A lump formed in Emily’s throat. She embraced both girls, pulling them close. Somewhere deep in the house, Tom blew his nose loudly.
Later, as she was sending the girls to bed, she heard their whispers:
“Hey, can I call you my sister?” Alice’s voice carried.
“Sure,” Grace replied with a smile in her tone. “But only with one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“Teach me how to make those friendship bracelets? Yours are so pretty…”
Emily gently closed the door. Tom waited in the kitchen with two glasses.
“You know,” he mused, pouring the crimson liquid, “Peter and Natalie are probably happy right now. Up there.”
“Do you think so?” she asked, taking a glass.
“I’m sure of it. Their girl is home. In a family. And now she has a sister.”
Outside, stars twinkled. Dogs barked in the distance. And in the nursery, two girls, once strangers, whispered about their girlish things, gradually becoming true sisters.
