Lucy walked through the unfamiliar streets of Manchester, clutching a small piece of paper like it was her last lifeline. For two days straight, she’d been searching for work, but no luck.
“Thanks, we’ll call you!” employers repeated like a broken record.
“But I don’t have a phone. I’m not from here, and mobiles are too expensive,” Lucy tried to explain, desperation creeping into her voice.
“Did you fill out the form? Great! We’ll review your application!” The HR assistant’s blank stare made Lucy feel utterly invisible.
*What’s wrong with me? First-class degree, fluent in French and Spanish… What more do they want?*
Time was running out. If she didn’t land a job today, she’d have to go back to her tiny village in Cornwall. How could she face her sick mum after promising everything would be fine? What future was there for her back there?
“Good afternoon,” Lucy murmured, stepping into another office. “I’m here about the job.” She knew she should sound confident, but fear tightened her throat.
“Fill this out,” snapped a peroxide-blonde receptionist, barely glancing up. Ten minutes later: “Thanks! We’ll be in touch!”
“But—I don’t have a phone,” Lucy whispered, fighting tears.
The woman looked at her like she’d crawled out of the Stone Age. “Not my problem. Move along.”
Lucy turned to leave, utterly defeated—until the door burst open. A striking woman strode in.
“Sophie, are the suppliers here yet?”
“Not yet, Emily. Any minute now.”
The woman—Emily—paused, her eyes locking onto Lucy’s. Both froze. They were identical.
“She’s here about the admin job. Told her we’d call, but apparently she’s a bit slow,” the receptionist sneered.
“Come with me,” Emily said abruptly, leading Lucy into a lavish office. “Show me your credentials.”
“I—I don’t have references. I just graduated.”
Emily barely glanced at the papers. “You’re hired. When can you start?”
“Now!” Lucy blurted.
“Good. Sophie will guide you, then take you to the restaurant. The manager, James, will meet you there.”
Emily left, rearranged her schedule, and bolted to her car, hands shaking. She *knew* Lucy was her sister—the girl from her dreams. It had to be. Same face, even the same freckle on her wrist.
She drove straight to her adoptive mother, Margaret, a renowned surgeon who’d never shown an ounce of warmth. Margaret had always been a mystery—cold, strict, never speaking of Emily’s father.
“You’re early,” Margaret said flatly when Emily arrived.
“Missed you,” Emily lied. “Mum… tell me about my sister.”
Margaret paled. “Who told you?!”
“I *met* her. We’re identical. I *dreamed* about her, Mum. She’s my twin.”
Margaret’s steely facade cracked. “I couldn’t have children. Then your mother—a young girl from the countryside—was brought in, giving birth to twins. I couldn’t bear it. I *took* you.”
Emily’s world spun. “You *stole* me?”
“I gave you a *life*! You’d be nothing without me!”
Emily fled, hours passing in a blur before she found Lucy at the shabby flat she rented.
“We’re sisters,” Emily choked out.
Lucy’s eyes filled with tears. “I *dreamed* about you too.”
They embraced, sobbing. The next day, they drove to Cornwall to reunite with their real mother, Sarah—a kind woman whose health had faded since her husband’s death.
Sarah, though heartbroken, refused to press charges. “I have you back. That’s enough.”
Even Margaret, once a proud tyrant, came begging for forgiveness.
“I was wrong,” she whispered. “I *love* you.”
Emily forgave her. After all, family wasn’t about blood—it was about who stood by you. And now, at last, her family was whole.
