Monday morning arrived, crisp and cool, the sunlight filtering through the curtains of the grand dining room. Anne sat at the long, polished dining table, her fingers nervously tapping the edge of her 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 Anne, who was picking at her 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 Anne, 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."
Anne, feeling the weight of their silence, stood up from the table, her movements stiff. She couldn't take the tension anymore. She grabbed her bag and motioned for Emily and Josh to follow.
As Anne turned to leave, she noticed Shawn's eyes still on her, studying her every move. There was something in the way he looked at her—a mixture of curiosity and something deeper that she couldn't quite understand. She didn't want to dwell on it. Instead, she led her siblings out of the room, trying to push past the discomfort.
After Anne and her siblings had left, 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 Anne had just exited through.
Shawn didn't respond immediately, his gaze lost in thought. He was still processing the strange pull he felt around Anne, 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 Anne 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 Anne arrived at school, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her chest. Her mind kept drifting back to Shawn's gaze at the breakfast table, and Elsa's cold demeanor toward her. She tried to focus in class, but her thoughts kept wandering. The lessons felt distant, the words from the teacher too far away to grasp.
Maya, sitting next to her, noticed the far-off look in Anne's eyes. During the break, she leaned over, her voice soft but concerned.
"Hey, are you okay? You seem a little out of it today."
Anne hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to share her thoughts, but Maya's warm, genuine gaze made her feel safe. She lowered her voice, just enough for Maya to hear.
"It's... it's about this morning," Anne started, the words feeling heavy on her 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?"
Anne 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." She paused, biting her lip, before adding, "It's just... everything feels so new. I'm scared they won't accept us."
Maya placed a comforting hand on Anne's 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."
Anne gave a small, grateful smile, appreciating her friend's kind words. "Thanks, Maya. I needed to hear that."
Maya nodded, offering Anne 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?"
Anne felt a little lighter, the weight on her shoulders easing just a bit as the bell rang, signaling the end of break. She 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 Anne managed to keep herself steady. Maya's words had comforted her more than she expected. It wasn't that the fear disappeared—it still lingered quietly in her chest—but for once, she didn't feel like she was carrying it alone.
After their last class, Anne and Maya walked down the school's long marble hallway. Students chattered all around them, but their little bubble of calm remained.
"You'll come over, right?" Maya asked as they reached the school gates. "Sometime soon?"
Anne hesitated. "I'll try. Things at home are… complicated."
Maya tilted her head. "Still about the family thing?"
Anne 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 her 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."
Anne smiled faintly and gave her friend a hug before walking toward the waiting car. Mr. Philip's driver greeted her with a polite nod, and she slipped into the backseat beside her siblings. Emily was chatting about her class, and Josh hummed some tune only he understood.
As they rode back through the winding, tree-lined roads, Anne stared out the window. The sun was beginning to set, bathing the city in gold. Her reflection on the glass looked tired, but stronger somehow.
Home was near, and with it—whatever the next page of her story would hold.
When the car pulled into the driveway, Anne's eyes lifted to the grand house. No matter how many times she saw it, it still felt surreal that she 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. Anne followed more slowly, her bag hanging from one shoulder, her mind still tangled in the morning's events.
As she passed the sitting room, she paused—Shawn was there, seated alone on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looked up briefly when he heard her steps, and their eyes met for a second. He didn't say anything. Just stared.
Anne looked away quickly and started up the stairs. But halfway up, his voice stopped her.
"You didn't eat much this morning," he said. Not teasing. Just observing.
She turned slightly. "I wasn't that hungry."
Shawn nodded once, then leaned back. "You shouldn't let people like us bother you."
Anne raised a brow. "People like you?"
He looked over at her 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, Anne wasn't sure how to respond.
"I'm used to worse," she said simply. "I just didn't expect it from this house."
Then she continued up the stairs, leaving him in silence once more.
In her room, Anne let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She sat by the window, the fading light wrapping around her face. Her heart was unsure—but not broken. Her life was shifting again, and she would shift with it.
She had to.
Later that night, the house was quiet. The halls dimly lit, and a gentle hush seemed to settle over everything. Anne had changed into her nightwear, brushed her hair, and tucked Emily and Josh into bed—Josh already fast asleep, his tiny hand clutching hers for a second before he drifted off.
Anne returned to her room and sat at her desk, pretending to study, but the words on the page blurred. Her 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 her chest she couldn't quite name.
A soft knock came at her door.
She blinked. "Come in?"
Mrs. Pat peeked her head through the doorway, holding a small tray. "You didn't eat dinner," she said gently.
Anne looked surprised. "Oh… I wasn't hungry."
Mrs. Pat stepped in anyway, setting the tray on Anne's 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."
Anne's throat tightened. She nodded slowly. "Thank you."
Mrs. Pat brushed a strand of hair from Anne's forehead like a mother would. "You're doing well, Anne. You really are."
And then she left, closing the door softly behind her.
Anne stared at the tray, then whispered, "I miss you, Mom."
But for the first time in a while, her tears didn't come. Just a quiet ache, and a hope that maybe—just maybe—this new life could be real.
She pulled the tray closer, took a bite of the bread, and then opened her books again. Some pages still blurry, some lines still confusing—but she kept reading.
She had promised Mr. Philip.
And she wouldn't break it.