Laura once more found her peace shattered.
One crisp morning, the door of her snug cottage swung open abruptly, revealing a young woman on the threshold. Tall, slender, with piercing eyes and a defiant gaze, Laura recognized her instantlyit was Annabelle, her younger niece, whom she had left behind in an orphanage many years ago.
“Auntie!” the girl said sharply, arms crossed. “Ive been looking for you a long while. They told me you lived here.”
Her voice was steady, firm, her stare icy as it bore into Laura. Laura invited her in, offering tea, but Annabelle refused, choosing instead to stand in the centre of the room.
“Do you remember me?” she asked bluntly, glancing around. “Im Annabelle. The girl you left at the home.”
Laura gave a silent nod, her heart twisting with old sorrow. Memories of the unruly, troubled child she had once known flickered before her.
“Why did you do it?” Annabelle pressed. “I was your own flesh and blood!”
She stepped closer, fists clenched. Despite her attempts to seem strong, Laura saw the tremor of uncertainty beneath her anger.
“I had no choice,” Laura replied softly. “I hadnt the strength nor the means to care for you both. Alice needed me more.”
Annabelles face darkened with hurt and betrayal. “So you chose my sister over me? Just cast me aside like rubbish?”
Her voice shook, and Laura felt the weight of guilt settle upon her. Years had passed, yet here she stood, facing the consequences of her decision.
“I want money,” Annabelle stated coldly. “For what you did. Compensation for all those years.”
Lauras inner turmoil deepened. In this hardened young woman, she saw resilience, but also the scars of bitterness and loneliness carved deep into her soul.
“How much?” Laura whispered, fighting back tears.
Annabelle named a sumenough to strain Lauras modest means. A heavy silence stretched between them as Laura weighed her answer.
“Very well,” she said at last. The guilt was real, and if money could ease her conscience, so be it. Yet, fear gnawed at herwhat might this resentful girl do to Alice?
The tale began long ago, when Lauras younger sister fell in with a dangerous man. It was a storm of drink, reckless choices, and consequences none had foreseen. Before even she knew it, her sister was with childa girl named Alice.
From the moment Alice was born, it was as if the world had paused just for her. Bright, smiling, endlessly curious, she grew quickly, bringing laughter wherever she went. The family rallied around her mother, but the situation remained precarious. Alice often stayed with Laura, who taught her to read, to paint, played games with her, and filled her childhood with joy.
Then fate intervened. Five years later, another child arrivedunplanned, perhaps a twist of cruel fortune. This girl was different: troubled in speech, prone to tantrums, her temper sharp as flint. They named her Annabelle, though the sweetness of the name did not match her nature.
While Alice was gentle and open-hearted, Annabelle seemed a tempest in human form. The strain grew too muchtheir parents, lost to drink and quarrels, had their rights stripped away. The girls were taken into care.
The authorities gave Laura a choicetake both or neither. Her heart ached. She wanted Alice, loved her as her own. But Annabelle? A stranger, wild and difficulthow could she manage both?
After agonizing counsel, Laura made her choice. She took Alice, believing it the only way to preserve her own peace. Some might call it selfish, but she could not bear the thought of drowning under the weight of two.
Annabelle remained in the orphanage, forgotten.
Years passed in quiet happiness with Alicelaughter, shared secrets, a life rebuilt.
And now Annabelle stood at her door.
At first, Laura felt joy. Then came the weightnew duties, new demands. Money, yes, but also something deeper. Old wounds reopened, questions of loyalty and fairness.
Annabelles presence unsettled everything. Lauras careful balance of life and love now trembled.
Once more, peace slipped through her fingers.
