**Diary Entry A Twist of Fate**
She wasnt exactly annoyed by the girl, no, but there was something off-putting about her. Scruffy, with messy plaits, a wrinkled school uniform, and a crooked collar. The girl looked neglected, her eyes downcast.
Margaret Winthrop frowned. Why had she thought of that untidy child just now? She set aside her beloved éclair. Where was James? Hed promised to come earlytoday was the anniversary of Edwards passing.
A knock at the door startled her.
“Whos there? James, is that you? Forget your keys again?”
“Miss Winthrop, you left your keys on the chair.”
“What? What keys?”
Margaret opened the door and froze. It was *that* girl.
“Alice? What keys? How do you know where I live? Have you been following me?”
The girl shook her head. Her worn-out hat, tatty coat with a stain on the pocket, and scuffed shoes made Margaret pause. Only then did she notice the girls striking blue eyes, framed by thick black lashes.
Alice Sedgwick had only recently joined the school. A quiet, solitary childno friends, always keeping to herself.
“You left your keys on the chair, Miss Winthrop. I called after you, but you didnt hear.”
“Oh goodness. I mustve forgotten to put them in my bag. Getting old, I suppose,” she joked weakly.
“Youre not old,” Alice said seriously. “Just in a hurry, I think.”
“Thank you Alice.”
“Youre welcome. Goodbye, Miss Winthrop.”
Margaret shut the door, then hesitated. She flung it open again just in time to see Alice descending the stairs.
“Alice,” Margaret called down. “How *did* you know where I live?”
“I live next door. I see you walking to school sometimes. Theres that stray dog on the cornerhe growls at me, but if I walk close to you, he doesnt. Hes called Rex. I feed the cats in the basement, so he smells them on me As for your address, I asked the ladies on the bench. Told them you taught at my school.”
*What a peculiar child,* Margaret thought.
“Would you like some tea?” The question slipped out before she could stop herself.
Alice nodded instantlyno polite refusal as manners dictated.
Margaret poured the tea, then hesitated. “Are you hungry?”
Alice shook her head, but Margaret saw the truth in her eyes.
“Fancy eating with me? I hate dining alone, and James is late. Might as well.”
She bustled about, pulling food from the fridge. Alice ate neatly but ravenously.
“Thank you,” Alice murmured, eyeing the leftovers. “Your cookings lovely.”
*So starved she even praises my mediocre food.*
Margaret packed up the leftovers, adding biscuits and sweets. Alice accepted them without protest.
Later, Margaret chided herselfthis was unprofessional. What if Alice hugged her in front of the staff tomorrow? Or thanked her loudly for the meal?
James slunk in the next morning, avoiding her gaze.
“What was yesterday?” she demanded.
“Thursday. Todays Friday.”
“Dont be smart, James.”
“Oh, were using full names now? Serious indeed.” He sighed. “Mum, Im thirty. Let it go.”
“It was your fathers memorial. He deserved better.”
“He wouldnt care if we ate yesterday or today. Lets do it tonight, yeah? Im knackered.”
“Up all night, were you?”
“You *really* want to know?”
Grumpy, Margaret headed to school, bracing for Alices inevitable acknowledgment. But the girl walked right past her with nothing more than a quiet “Morning.”
*Cheeky little*
Margaret spent the day trying to corner her, but Alice seemed to vanish. Three days later, as Margaret walked home, a scream pierced the air.
Alice, her coat sleeve torn, was wrestling with a snarling stray.
“Get *off!*” Margaret shooed the dog away. “Alice! Are you hurt?”
The girls eyes were wide with fear. “H-he tried toto *kill* the kitten!”
Margarets chest tightened. “Its alright. Lets get you home.”
“I *cant*.”
“Most children your age”
Alice cut her off. “They wont let me.”
“Who?”
No answer.
At school, Margaret dug for answers. The maths teacher, old Miss Higgins, knew of Alicea troubled home, drunken guardians, a grandmother somewhere.
Margaret watched Alice from a distance later. The girl perched on a bench outside her building, pulling out a textbook. *Doing homework in the cold?*
That evening, she argued with James againdivorced two years ago, drifting. “Natasha was perfect for you!”
“Boring,” hed said. Now hed found someone *exciting*.
Margaret stormed out for airand heard a slurred shout.
“Alice! Wheres that wretched girl?”
A dishevelled womansame blue eyeslurched near the entrance.
“Excuse me,” Margaret interjected. “Are you Alices?”
“Piss off,” the woman spat before staggering inside.
Margaret turnedand Alice emerged from the shadows.
“Come home with me.”
“Shell punish me.”
“Let her try.”
“Theyll take me away if she loses custody.”
“Who *is* she?”
“My gran. Mums gone.”
“Gone where?”
“Gone for good. Four years now.”
Margarets voice softened. “Come. Well sort this.”
James gaped when they walked in. “Whos this?”
“Alice.”
The girl stared at himrecognition flickering.
“Staying the night?” he asked.
“Dunno.”
The next morning, Margaret took Alice shopping. The saleswoman cooed, “What a beautiful granddaughter! She looks just like you.”
Margarets heart warmed despite herself.
Alice clung to her old coat. “Theyll sell the new ones or beat me.”
“What do we do?”
Alice shrugged.
At home, they baked a cakeAlice guiding Margaret with surprising skill.
“Mum and I used to bake,” she said quietly.
James returned, freezing at the sight of Alice.
“You know her?” Margaret asked sharply.
He nodded, voice thick. “This is my daughter.”
The truth tumbled outa youthful fling with Alices mother, Diana, whod kept the child secret. Hed only learned recently.
Margaret clutched Alices hand at court, refusing to let go. Tests confirmed itAlice was her blood.
Later, Alice asked James, “Can I live with Gran?”
“What if she says no?”
“She wont. Shes lonely.”
“And Im not?”
“Youve got Lena.”
Margaret walked hand-in-hand with her granddaughter, uncaring of gossip. Shed found her joy.
James grew close to Alicethough he and Lena parted ways.
“Not because of me?” Alice asked anxiously.
“Never,” he swore.
At parents’ evening, James met Alices teachernow his new partner.
Alice grinned when classmates teased, “Hard having your gran *and* mum as teachers?”
“Nah. Its brilliant.”
Sometimes, Alice still visits her other grancleaning, cooking, scolding her to quit drinking. The old woman weeps, kissing her hands.
“My girl,” she sobs. “My own flesh and blood.”
**Lesson Learned:**
Life has a way of mending broken threads when we least expect it. Sometimes, the family we need finds usnot through blood alone, but through kindness, patience, and the quiet courage of a child who refuses to be unseen.
