The Number of Fate
Elizabeth Bennett had lost her daughter years ago in a tragic accident. At first, she had withdrawn from life entirelyseeing nothing, hearing nothing, speaking to no one. She couldnt bear it, nor did she want to.
It felt as though no one could ever understand her grief, and she didnt need them to. All she wanted was to be left alone with her thoughts, where Sophie was still alive. She convinced herself that her daughter had simply gone awayfor a long timebut would return one day.
She couldnt bring herself to delete Sophies number from her phone. Whenever she glanced at it, she thought, *What if she calls?* There it was, right beside the numbers of those who were still living. And sometimes, it gave her the fleeting comfort that she could call her daughter toowhenever she wished.
***
One evening, as she often did, Elizabeth sat by the window, gazing absently into the street. It was a habit formed long ago, back when Sophie was still in school. She used to watch for the moment her daughter would come running homethen hurry to the stove to warm up supper.
Those days felt like another lifetime.
Lost in thought, Elizabeth picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, her eyes lingering on Sophies name. Almost without thinking, she pressed call.
***
“Hello?” A young womans voice, warm and brightso much like Sophies.
Elizabeths breath caught.
“IIm sorry,” she stammered. “I must have dialed the wrong number.”
“No worries,” the girl replied with a light laugh. “Happens to the best of us.” Then she hung up.
Elizabeth sat stunned. At first, she wondered if shed imagined it. But nothat voice had been real. It was uncanny, how much it sounded like Sophies. Shed recognize it anywhere.
For days, she couldnt stop thinking about that calland about Sophie. Memories flooded her mind: her daughter laughing, chatting, talking on the phone. That voice echoed in her head until she could no longer tell memory from reality.
One evening, she couldnt resist. She called again.
“Hello?” The same friendly voice answered.
“Hello,” Elizabeth said, fighting the tremor in her words. “I called you a while agoby accident. And your voice its so much like my daughters. Sophie. Sheshes gone.”
A pause. “Im so sorry,” the girl said softly. “My names Lily. Is there anything I can do?”
“No,” Elizabeth answered quickly. “I dont need anything. Just talk to me?”
***
From that night on, Elizabeth and Lily began calling each other.
At first, their conversations were simpleordinary things.
“Got caught in the rain today,” Lily said once. “But you know what? It felt nice. Like the world was washing away something heavy.”
“Ive always felt lighter after rain, too,” Elizabeth admitted with a small smile.
Lily shared her thoughts. “Springs here, and everyones in loveexcept me.”
“Give it time,” Elizabeth reassured her. “Your happiness is already on its way.”
***
With every call, they grew closer. Trust deepened, words carried comfort, and silence spoke understanding.
“Do you always open up so easily?” Lily asked one evening.
Elizabeth chuckled. “No. But you learn with timesilence doesnt heal.”
“How do you live with it?” Lily ventured. “The loss?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Day by day. Night by night. The wound never leaves you. But you mustnt lose hope.”
“I understand,” Lily murmured. “I grew up without family. In foster care. Its lonely.”
“Well,” Elizabeth said softly, “youre not alone anymore. Fate brought us together for a reason.”
***
“Thank you for listening to me,” Lily said once.
Elizabeths eyes welled. “No, thank *you*, dearfor letting me listen, for talking to me.”
“Youve youve become like a mother to me.”
“And youve become like a daughter,” Elizabeth replied without hesitation. “Perhaps we should meet? Id love to see you in person.”
***
The café was warm, candles flickering on the tables. Elizabeth sat by the window, eyes fixed on the door. Every time it opened, her heart leaptas though Sophie would walk in.
And then she did.
Lily.
Nothing like Sophie, yet the moment their eyes met, they knew each other.
“Hello, my dear,” Elizabeth whispered, reaching outthen stepping forward to embrace her.
Lily didnt pull away.
“Hello,” she breathed.
They sat, a tender quiet between them.
“Youre nothing like Sophie,” Elizabeth said after a moment, voice trembling just slightly.
“Good,” Lily smiled. “Because Im Lily.”
“And I wouldnt have you any other way,” Elizabeth replied. “Thank you for coming.”
They talked easilyabout life, dreams, how strange and wonderful it was to find someone when hope seemed lost.
Lily spoke of foster homes; Elizabeth, of Sophie.
“You know,” Elizabeth shared, “Sophie always dreamed of a big family. A house with a garden, evenings by the fire.”
“She sounds lovely,” Lily said.
“She was. Sometimes I think shes still watching over me.”
“I dream of family too,” Lily admitted. “Sometimes it feels impossible.”
“Its not,” Elizabeth said firmly. “And if youll let me, Ill always be there for you.”
Lily brushed away a tear. “Thank you.”
***
Days later, Elizabeth invited Lily over.
“Youre sure you want me there?” Lily couldnt hide her joy.
“Absolutely!”
“Then Ill confessIve been curious about your home.”
For the first time in years, Elizabeths heart felt light at the thought of company.
***
That day, the house came alive. Lily brought light with her, laughter filling the rooms. Elizabeth watched her, memorizing each glance, each wordgathering fragments of lost happiness.
“Lily,” she said suddenly, “why dont you move in? Theres plenty of space. Why pay rent when you could stay here?”
Lily beamed. “Id love that. It already feels like home.”
***
Months passed. Their bond grew stronger, almost like family.
Others didnt approve.
“Are you sure shes not after something?” some whispered. “Your house, your money? These scams happen all the time.”
“You cant trust strangers,” others warned.
Elizabeth ignored them.
“Lily *is* family,” she said firmly.
“But what if its a trap?”
“Im old enough to decide who to trust,” Elizabeth replied.
***
Years later, Lily married and had a daughter. She wanted to name her Sophie, but Elizabeth stopped her.
“No need, dear. Ill never forget my Sophie. Let her have her own name, her own story.”
They smiled, knowing love needed no remindersit lived in the heart.
Despite Lilys new life, their bond only grew stronger. Her husband adored Elizabeth, joking,
“My mother-in-law? Shes pure gold!”
***
What began as a wrong number became a story of loveone not bound by blood, age, or chance. In a world full of loss, theyd found something rare: a kinship of souls.
Now, when Elizabeth walks with Lilys daughter, strangers often say,
“What a beautiful granddaughter! The spitting image of her gran! Youre so lucky.”
“Lucky,” Elizabeth echoes in her heart, thanking fate for this second chance at happiness.
