Monday morning arrived, crisp and cool, the sunlight filtering through the curtains of the grand dining room. I sat at the long, polished dining table, my fingers nervously tapping the edge of my plate. Emily and Josh were happily digging into their breakfast, content with the warmth and the abundance they hadn't known in a long while. Mrs. Pat and Mr. Philip sat at the head of the table, their faces calm yet filled with a quiet intensity.
Mrs. Pat, as always, tried to ease the tension, her voice gentle. "Shawn, Elsa," she began, turning to her children, "have you had the chance to speak with Anne and her siblings yet?"
Shawn's eyes flickered up at me, and I was still picking at my food, still adjusting to the strange, new family dynamic. Elsa didn't even glance up from her plate, her expression unreadable.
Mr. Philip chimed in softly, looking toward Shawn and Elsa. "It's important that you get to know them. They'll be living here with us now. You should at least try to be kind."
Shawn's gaze remained on me, his silence both heavy and piercing. Elsa didn't even respond, merely continuing to eat, her focus solely on the meal in front of her.
After a few moments, Mrs. Pat's warm voice broke the quiet. "We have business meetings to attend today, so we'll be leaving shortly. But remember, we expect you to be good to each other while we're gone."
I, feeling the weight of their silence, stood up from the table, my movements stiff. I couldn't take the tension anymore. I grabbed my bag and motioned for Emily and Josh to follow.
As I turned to leave, I noticed Shawn's eyes still on me, studying my every move. There was something in the way he looked at me—a mixture of curiosity and something deeper that I couldn't quite understand. I didn't want to dwell on it. Instead, I led my siblings out of the room, trying to push past the discomfort.
After I left with my siblings, Elsa turned to Shawn with a look of disbelief.
"Isn't she weird?" she asked quietly, her voice edged with uncertainty as she glanced toward the door I had just exited through.
Shawn didn't respond immediately, his gaze lost in thought. He was still processing the strange pull he felt around me, the one he couldn't quite understand.
"Maybe," he finally replied, his tone more thoughtful than dismissive.
Elsa huffed, shaking her head. "I just don't get it, Shawn. Why does Dad treat them like that? It's not like they're family."
Shawn's jaw tightened. He knew Elsa didn't fully understand their father's generosity, but there was something more complex at play in his mind. He didn't want to admit it, but there was something about me he couldn't quite shake, something that tugged at him in a way he wasn't prepared for.
Elsa, oblivious to his inner conflict, crossed her arms, frustration mounting. "I don't like it. I don't like how he's treating them like they're special. We barely know them, and yet—" She stopped, catching herself before she could say more.
Shawn shifted on his feet, his thoughts pulling him in different directions. "Maybe we should just let it be for now," he said quietly, not quite looking at her.
Elsa gave him a skeptical look. "You're really okay with this?"
Shawn didn't have an answer, at least not one that made sense. Instead, he just nodded and turned away, walking toward the living room as Elsa stood still, her thoughts swirling.
When I arrived at school, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in my chest. My mind kept drifting back to Shawn's gaze at the breakfast table, and Elsa's cold demeanor toward me. I tried to focus in class, but my thoughts kept wandering. The lessons felt distant, the words from the teacher too far away to grasp.
Maya, sitting next to me, noticed the far-off look in my eyes. During the break, she leaned over, her voice soft but concerned.
"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little out of it today."
I hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to share my thoughts, but Maya's warm, genuine gaze made me feel safe. I lowered my voice, just enough for her to hear.
"It's... it's about this morning," I started, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. "At breakfast... Mr. Philip's son Shawn just kept staring at me. Like, not in a friendly way. And his daughter Elsa didn't even say a word to me."
Maya listened carefully, her expression thoughtful. "That sounds rough. What do you think it was about?"
I shrugged, feeling the weight of the confusion. "I don't know. Maybe they don't like us being here, living with Mr. Philip... I feel like we're an inconvenience to them." I paused, biting my lip, before adding, "It's just... everything feels so new. I'm scared they won't accept us."
Maya placed a comforting hand on my arm. "You don't have to worry about that. People are complicated, especially when they're not used to something—or someone—new. Maybe they just need time."
I gave a small, grateful smile, appreciating my friend's kind words. "Thanks, Maya. I needed to hear that."
Maya nodded, offering me a warm smile. "You've got this. Just remember, not everyone's gonna be easy to understand at first. But you're not alone, okay?"
I felt a little lighter, the weight on my shoulders easing just a bit as the bell rang, signaling the end of break. I nodded at Maya, feeling a small spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, things would start to get better.
The rest of the school day moved by slowly, but I managed to keep myself steady. Maya's words had comforted me more than I expected. It wasn't that the fear disappeared—it still lingered quietly in my chest—but for once, I didn't feel like I was carrying it alone.
After our last class, Maya and I walked down the school's long marble hallway. Students chattered all around us, but our little bubble of calm remained.
"You'll come over, right?" Maya asked as we reached the school gates. "Sometime soon?"
I hesitated. "I'll try. Things at home are… complicated."
Maya tilted her head. "Still about the family thing?"
I nodded slowly. "They're not rude exactly, but… it's like I'm always reminded I don't belong. Not by Mr. Philip, of course. But the others. It's the looks, the silence. It's everything in between."
Maya gave me a sympathetic look but didn't push. "Well, if they can't see how lucky they are to have you around, that's their problem."
I smiled faintly and gave my friend a hug before walking toward the waiting car. Mr. Philip's driver greeted me with a polite nod, and I slipped into the backseat beside my siblings. Emily was chatting about her class, and Josh hummed some tune only he understood.
As we rode back through the winding, tree-lined roads, I stared out the window. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the city in gold. My reflection on the glass looked tired, but stronger somehow.
Home was near, and with it—whatever the next page of my story would hold.
When the car pulled into the driveway, my eyes lifted to the grand house. No matter how many times I saw it, it still felt surreal that I lived here now.
Inside, the house was calm. Mrs. Pat wasn't back yet, and Mr. Philip had left a note on the table, saying they'd be home late. Dinner would be brought out soon.
Emily and Josh ran upstairs, laughing about something only the two of them found funny. I followed more slowly, my bag hanging from one shoulder, my mind still tangled in the morning's events.
As I passed the sitting room, I paused—Shawn was there, seated alone on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up briefly when he heard my steps, and our eyes met for a second. He didn't say anything. Just stared.
I looked away quickly and started up the stairs. But halfway up, his voice stopped me.
"You didn't eat much this morning," he said. Not teasing. Just observing.
I turned slightly. "I wasn't that hungry."
Shawn nodded once, then leaned back. "You shouldn't let people like us bother you."
I raised a brow. "People like you?"
He looked over at me again, slower this time. "Yeah. Complicated people. People who don't say what they mean."
There was a strange softness in his words, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond.
"I'm used to worse," I said simply. "I just didn't expect it from this house."
Then I continued up the stairs, leaving him in silence once more.
In my room, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. I sat by the window, the fading light wrapping around my face. My heart was unsure—but not broken. My life was shifting again, and I would shift with it.
I had to.
Later that night, the house was quiet. The halls dimly lit, and a gentle hush seemed to settle over everything. I had changed into my nightwear, brushed my hair, and tucked Emily and Josh into bed—Josh already fast asleep, his tiny hand clutching mine for a second before he drifted off.
I returned to my room and sat at my desk, pretending to study, but the words on the page blurred. My thoughts were on everything else—Shawn's stare at breakfast, his strange softness later in the evening, Elsa's sharp silence. And above all, that weight in my chest I couldn't quite name.
A soft knock came at my door.
I blinked. "Come in?"
Mrs. Pat peeked her head through the doorway, holding a small tray. "You didn't eat dinner," she said gently.
I looked surprised. "Oh… I wasn't hungry."
Mrs. Pat stepped in anyway, setting the tray on my desk. A bowl of warm soup, bread, and sliced fruits.
"Try a little," she said with a smile. "I know it's not easy adjusting. But you're not alone here."
My throat tightened. I nodded slowly. "Thank you."
Mrs. Pat brushed a strand of hair from my forehead like a mother would. "You're doing well, Anne. You really are."
And then she left, closing the door softly behind her.
I stared at the tray, then whispered, "I miss you, Mom."
But for the first time in a while, my tears didn't come. Just a quiet ache, and a hope that maybe—just maybe—this new life could be real.
I pulled the tray closer, took a bite of the bread, and then opened my books again. Some pages still blurry, some lines still confusing—but I kept reading.
I had promised Mr. Philip.
And I wouldn't break it.