Father left his family for another woman when his daughter was just four.
He walked out just after New Years, muttering a quick “sorry” to little Annabel before shutting the front door firmly behind him. Her mother took it with eerie calm, as if this were simply the way things had to beafter all, no woman in their family had ever managed a lasting marriage. But a few weeks later, in the dead of night, she swallowed every diazepam and paracetamol pill in the house and drifted off for good.
The next morning, Annabel spent ages trying to wake her, shouting and shaking her with all her tiny strength. Eventually, she gave up, rummaged through the fridge for a makeshift breakfast, then returned for one last attempt. Exhausted, she curled up beside her mother and fell asleep.
January days slip by fast, and the light had already faded when the girl opened her eyes again. She shivered, tugging the duvet tighter and pressing closer to her motheronly to realise the unbearable cold was coming from *her*. Hot tears burned Annabels cheeks.
Then, the front door creaked open. Annabel bolted like a whirlwindit was Auntie Emily, her mothers younger sister.
“Annabel, love, youre here! Wheres your mum? Ive been calling all daywhy isnt she answering? Im *worried*!”
Annabel clutched Emilys coat, yanking hard. She pointed frantically toward the bedroom, face twisted in silent agony. Her mouth moved, tears and snot streaming, but no sound came out.
Emily had never had childrenher husband left her after five years, citing that very reason. So, shed poured all her love into her niece, acting as a second mother. Naturally, when tragedy struck, Emily handled the paperwork without hesitation, and Annabel moved in with her. For three years, she doted on the girl, but no therapy or rehab could bring her voice back.
That winter, the cold arrived with St. Swithins Day, bringing proper, crunching snow. Annabel and her friends spent the day sledging in Hyde Park, built a whole snowman family, rolled around, and made snow angels.
“Time to go home. Your clothes are frozen stiff, and your gloves are little ice blocks. Come onwell pop by Tesco for milk and pasta,” Emily urged.
People bustled in and out of the supermarket, doors swinging, while a ginger cat sat regally by the entrance, eyes half-lidded like it couldnt be bothered with the fuss. It only twitched its paws now and thenprobably from the cold. Annabel crouched beside it, waving Emily off to shop alone.
“Fine, Ill be quick. *Dont move*.”
The girl stroked the cat slowly. It stood, arched its back in delight, and purred like a tiny engine. Annabel hugged its neck, pressing her face into its furuntil suddenly, hot tears spilled down her cheeks. The cat licked them away, sneezed, then licked some more.
“Ugh, *disgusting*! Its a filthy stray!” Emily grabbed Annabels hand, dragging her toward the car. The girl fought, twisting free, but Emily bundled her into the backseat.
The cat followed, meowing pitifully at the window.
“I cant leave him. Hes *mine* now,” Annabel whispered, tears streaking the glass.
“Was that? *Say it again*,” Emily breathed, voice trembling.
“We *cant* leave him! Hell *die* without me!” the girl shouted, clear as day.
Emily leapt out, scooped up the cat, and plopped onto the backseat beside Annabel. The ginger terror dug its claws into her coat, thenspotting the girlflopped onto her lap and went still.
“You *wanted* a cat? Bloody hell, you couldve *said*,” Emily laughed, wiping her eyes.
