The father walked out on his family for another woman when his daughter was just four. It was right after New Years Day; standing in the doorway, he muttered “sorry” to little Emily before shutting the front door for good. Her mother, Claire, took it with unsettling calm, as if she had always known it would end this way. In her family, no woman had ever known a love that lasted.
But weeks later, on a bitter January night, Claire swallowed every diazepam and paracetamol pill in the house and slipped into a sleep from which she never woke.
The next morning, Emily tried for what felt like hours to rouse her mother, shaking her, screaming her name. When that failed, she scavenged the fridge for a makeshift breakfaststale toast, half a bananathen returned, clinging to her mothers cold arm until exhaustion pulled her under.
The days of January slipped away like shadows. Dusk had already fallen when Emily stirred awake, shivering violently. She yanked the blanket tighter, pressing closer to her mothers sideonly to recoil. The icy chill wasnt from the room. It radiated from Claire herself. Hot tears seared Emilys cheeks as the truth crashed over her.
Then, the front door creaked open.
Emily bolted like a shot. Aunt SarahClaires younger sisterstood there, breathless.
“Emily, love, youre here! Wheres your mum? Ive been calling all daywhy isnt she answering?” Her voice cracked with worry.
Emily seized Sarahs coat, dragging her toward the bedroom, her small face contorted in silent agony. She pointed, her mouth workingbut no sound came out.
Sarah had never been able to have children, and her husband left her because of it. So she poured every ounce of love into Emily, becoming her second mother. When the worst happened, Sarah fought through the paperwork to become her legal guardian. She gave Emily everythingdoctors, therapistsbut three long years passed without her niece uttering a single word.
That winter, the cold arrived with St. Swithins Day, blanketing London in crisp, crunching snow. Emily and her friends spent the afternoon sledding in Hyde Park, building snowmen, rolling in drifts until their gloves froze stiff.
“Time to go home,” Sarah said, brushing snow from Emilys coat. “Youre soaked through. Well stop at the shop for milk and pasta.”
People hurried in and out of the supermarket, their breath fogging in the air. By the entrance, an orange tabby sat regally, eyes half-lidded, as if the cold meant nothing. Only the occasional twitch of its paws betrayed the chill. Emily crouched beside it, gesturing for Sarah to go ahead.
“Alright, but dont move from this spot!”
Emily stroked the cats fur. It arched into her touch, purring loudly. Then, without warning, she buried her face in its scruffand hot tears spilled free. The cat licked them away, sneezed, then licked again.
“Emily! Thats disgustingits a stray!” Sarah grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the car. Emily fought, twisting free, but Sarah bundled her into the backseat.
The cat followed, mewling plaintively at the car window.
“We cant leave him. Hell die without me,” Emily whispered, her breath fogging the glass.
Sarah froze. “Did you just? Say that again.”
“I said we cant leave him!” Emily shouted, her voice raw but unmistakable.
Sarah flung the door open, scooped up the cat, and slid into the backseat beside her. The tabby, startled, dug its claws into her coatthen leapt onto Emilys lap, curling into a tight, purring ball.
“You wanted him? All you had to do was ask,” Sarah laughed, her own eyes wet. “Id have gotten you a cat years ago.”
