**Diary Entry**
I let an old friend stay the night, and by morning, I caught her rifling through my things.
“Mum, I told youI’m going to Lily’s birthday! We’re just meeting at the café, and I’ll call a cab. Promise!”
Hannah stood in the hallway, arms crossed, blocking her seventeen-year-old daughters path. Emily, already dressed in her new outfit and makeup done, shifted impatiently.
“A cab at midnight? Are you mad? Just meet up tomorrowits Saturday. Im not letting you go, and thats final.”
“But Mu-um!” Emily whined, her voice trembling with frustration. “Everyone else gets to go! You dont trust me, do you?”
“I trust you. I dont trust London at night for a seventeen-year-old. End of discussion. Go change.”
Emily glared, spun on her heel, and stomped to her room, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the china cabinet. Hannah sighed, her pulse still racing from the argument. She knew Emily would sulk all night, but fear for her only child outweighed any desire to be the “cool” mum.
The kettle hissed as she slumped onto a kitchen stool. The evening was ruined. Then, the phone rang.
“Hello?” she answered wearily.
“Hannah? Its meSophie. Parker. Do you remember me?”
Her breath caught. Sophie Parkerher university best friend, now a ghost from fifteen years ago. Faded calls, then just Christmas cards, then silence.
“Sophie? Of course. Whats wrong?”
“Im so sorry for calling so late,” Sophie choked out. “Ive got nowhere else to go. Hehe kicked me out. Ten years together, and he just replaced me. The flats his. Ive got nothing.”
Hannahs chest tightened. She pictured Sophieonce vibrant, confidentnow hunched on a cold train station bench, lost.
“Where are you? Paddington? Stay there. Take a cab to mineIll cover the fare.”
Sophie protested weakly, but Hannah cut her off. “Twelve Elm Street, flat forty-five. Ill wait.”
She rushed to prep the sofa, fresh linens in hand. An hour later, the doorbell rang. The woman on the step was a shadow of the Sophie she knewpale, puffy-eyed, clutching a duffel bag.
“Hannah,” Sophie whispered, collapsing into her arms.
She guided her inside, made tea, listened as Sophie unspooled her misery. By midnight, Sophie swayed with exhaustion. Hannah tucked her in, kissed her daughteralready asleepand lay awake, wondering how life had battered Sophie so badly.
At dawn, she crept out, only to freeze. Her bedroom door, which shed shut, stood ajar. A faint rustling.
Peering in, her stomach dropped. Sophie knelt at her dresser, fingers skimming through drawers, pausing at the jewellery boxher mums earrings, her late husbands thin gold chain. A quick glance, a disappointed frown, then Sophie moved to the documents.
Hannah retreated, shaking. What was she looking for? Money? Jewels?
At breakfast, Sophie chatted easily, as if nothing had happened. But Emily noticed too. “Shes weird, Mum. Her eyes darty.”
At work, Hannah rang another old friend, Olivia.
“Sophie Parker? Be careful. Shes always had a streak. Remember the missing trip money? And last I heard, she was drowning in debt.”
Hannahs blood ran cold.
She came home early. Found Sophie at Emilys desk, flipping through an old photo albumpictures of her late husband, Daniel.
“Put it down,” Hannah said, voice brittle.
Sophies mask slipped. “I need money, Hannah. Youve got a flat, a job. Daniel collected coinsremember? I thought”
“You used me.”
Sophies laugh was sharp. “What choice did I have?”
“Get out.”
Ten minutes later, the door shut behind Sophie. Hannah slid to the floor, Emilys arms wrapping around her.
“People change, Mum. Especially when theyre desperate.”
Hannah exhaled, the weight lifting. Her real treasure wasnt in drawers or boxes. It was right here, holding her tight.
