SOUL MIGRATION.
Emma couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she felt as though the spirit of her mother had found its way into this little girl. Emma wasn’t one for superstitions or the supernatural, but the coincidences were far too many to ignore.
The girl was born eight months after her mother’s passing. It was as if her mother’s soul had wandered where it needed to and then returned to this world. The girl’s birthday also happened to fall on the same day as her mother’s, exactly forty-six years later.
The coincidences didn’t end there. Emma had been hired as a nanny for the girl, a role she had done once before for a classmate’s younger sister. Emma didn’t see herself as a lifelong nanny; she was trying to get into a psychology program but had been unsuccessful twice. She was determined she would succeed on her third try.
Emma preferred being a nanny over working as a shop assistant or waitress. It felt more like joy than work. With a glowing reference, the girl’s mother, Isabel, had agreed to employ Emma, albeit with a probation period, and Emma had been upfront about her university plans in a year. Isabel, who was just five years older than Emma, immediately suggested they address each other informally.
“Well, that sounds great. Lucy will start school then,” Isabel assured her. “She’s quite advanced; she could have started sooner, but I worry because of all her daily activities. She has a condition—it’s nothing I mentioned earlier, but I hope it’s not a problem. It’s difficult to find nannies willing to take on a child with a disability, or they demand a salary I can’t afford.”
Emma had imagined something severe, like a cleft palate awaiting surgery or epilepsy. “Lucy has sensorineural hearing loss. It’s genetic,” Isabel explained. Emma smiled and interrupted her.
“You don’t have to explain; I’m familiar with it. It’s in our family too.” “That’s one reason I invited you here. A mutual friend mentioned your mother had it, so I knew you wouldn’t be scared off,” Isabel replied.
Emma wasn’t frightened, and it wasn’t difficult to manage—modern devices restored almost full hearing. Emma’s mother had it much harder, as they communicated through sign language.
The final coincidence was their striking resemblance—dark eyes, raised brows that always seemed intrigued, and curly, unruly hair. Emma even visited her father to see old family albums. Sure enough, the little girl looked just like her mother at that age! When Emma mentioned this to her dad, he just chuckled, dismissing it as her missing her mother.
“You need to have your own kids soon,” he suggested. Emma blushed—she had been on a few dates with a guy from her prep course named Josh. But it was too early to consider kids. Her father, reading her pink cheeks, asked, “Have you checked if there’s any history of hearing issues in his family?”
“Oh, Dad!” she retorted.
Her parents had drilled into them since childhood—the importance of knowing a potential partner’s genetic health. Both Emma and her brother Jake carried a recessive gene linked to hearing loss.
“Just asking, dear.” He shrugged, “It doesn’t hurt to ask.” She quickly retreated from the conversation.
Whether it was because of the soul migration theory Emma invented or because Lucy was genuinely charming, Emma grew very fond of her and dreaded the thought of leaving. Perhaps her father was right about having children of her own, but she was young and dreaming of an education.
Emma shared her musings with Isabel, who was often busy at work to provide for her daughter and herself. “You must study!” insisted Isabel. “I had to leave college when I got pregnant, and now I can’t rise beyond a certain job level. It’s frustrating they’d rather take on a new graduate to push papers around.”
“And Lucy’s father?” Emma cautiously inquired, noting that no father figure had appeared during her four months on the job. “There isn’t one,” Isabel replied plainly. “What do you mean?”
“It was a brief encounter. He doesn’t even know he has a daughter. We met in another city while I was visiting a friend; it was love at first sight! We planned to meet again soon, but we couldn’t. He ended things over email, saying I was too good for him and all the usual excuses.” “And you didn’t know you were pregnant?”
“No idea until a week later. I decided to go through with it and have never regretted it,” Isabel said, smiling. “Yes, Lucy is amazing. She reminds me so much of my mom,” Emma suddenly admitted. Isabel laughed. “You and Lucy have a karmic connection; I noticed long ago.”
“I told my dad, and he laughed it off, saying I needed my own kids.” “Focus on your studies first, then children,” Isabel reminded, “so you don’t end up in my situation.”
For New Year’s, Emma and her dad planned to visit her brother Jake in a neighboring city—he managed a department at a travel agency and couldn’t leave for long. Emma had visited only once but loved Jake’s magnificent apartment on the fifteenth floor with a breathtaking view.
Emma had bought Lucy a thoughtful gift—a teddy bear reminiscent of one her mother had, which delighted Lucy, who promised to sleep with it every night.
While relaxing in Jake’s cozy kitchen, Emma received a message from Isabel. It was a photo of Lucy blissfully asleep with the teddy. Emma teared up, showing Jake and recounting the soul migration story.
“Emma, are you serious? Soul migration?” “Listen, Jake!” Emma protested. “Lucy looks more like our mother than her own! Look.”
She found a selfie they’d taken the day before, including Isabel, and showed it to her brother. After a long look at the photograph, Jake asked in a strained voice, “What’s her name?”
“Lucy, I told you. No, not like Mom.” “No, I mean the woman.”
“Isabel. Why?” Jake swallowed. “Does Lucy’s hearing work fine?”
“For heaven’s sake, didn’t I just say she has a hearing device? It’s the same condition. Isabel’s father shares the same issue as our mom. It’s genes, not spirits, but think about it…”
Jake jumped up, pacing the room. “How old is she? When was she born?” Curiously, Emma began but then stopped, startled, covering her mouth. “Isabel mentioned he left her over email clueless about the baby. It was you, wasn’t it?”
The next morning, all three were on a flight back, having snagged the last tickets. Their dad dabbed tears of joy from his eyes, engrossed in photos of his newfound granddaughter. Jake kept biting his lip, a habit from childhood, repeatedly questioning Emma about Isabel and Lucy.
Emma felt supernaturally calm—everything would work out. And the theory of soul migration? Perhaps no one could dismiss it entirely.
