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“HOW are your fingers, Ms. Quilt? Can you move them?” Sophie asked.
Quilt’s face, now healed from the burns, really did resemble Mairi and Cecili, just as Claire had said. Caught somewhere between shock and disbelief, Quilt stared down at her hand and slowly moved her fingers.
“I can move them…” she whispered. “I can’t believe it. I can move them!”
“If the bone or tendons beneath were damaged, I wouldn’t have been able to repair that,” Sophie said. “So I need to ask again—can you move them freely? No pain at all?”
“No… None!” Quilt said. “Is this… Am I dreaming?”
“I see. That’s good to hear. It’s probably been a while since you’ve used them, so take it slow while you get used to it again.” She paused, then added, “Now, I’m sorry, Ms. Quilt. While I’d like to take a moment to enjoy this small victory, the situation requires me to clarify a few things rather immediately.”
“Oh, um. Yes?”
“First, Cecili and Mairi are doing well. They greet each day with energy and optimism, grounded by the story you told them—the tale of the Lotus Princess, which continues to give them strength and hope. Second, for Alastora Orphanage to take official custody of children in its care, they must have been there for three full years. I suppose that means you’ve got one year left. Just one—to get your life back on track. Not much time at all, is it?
“Third, at present, floral embroidery is all the rage in town. According to my trusted maid here, the trend is shifting toward increasingly elaborate patterns with greater intricacy and number. A skilled seamstress would be in high demand anywhere right now, I imagine. That said, a word of warning: the matron of Alastora Orphanage will prove to be a formidable opponent. She loves those children as fiercely as if she’d given birth to every one of them. So believe me when I say—if you mean to return for your daughters, come ready. Come committed.”
Quilt’s breath caught in her throat. Though her hands were healed, they started to tremble again.
“You’ve entrusted your daughters to a fine orphanage, Ms. Quilt. I have no doubt they’ll grow up well there—healthy, happy—and eventually be taken in by kind foster parents or perhaps by a reputable establishment for work. That said…”
Sophie trailed off into silence. Quilt stared at her with wide, frightened eyes as if she were terrified of whatever might come next. But Sophie met that ocean-blue gaze and held it, steady and sure, like she was trying to anchor her.
It wasn’t your fault, she wanted to say. You had no other choice. You did what you had to do. A hundred phrases flickered through her mind—words meant to soothe, to comfort a mother who’d made an impossible decision under impossible circumstances. But…
She bit them back.
“I like the centers of donuts.”
That one line had said it all. To say it, despite the giant strawberry-laden cake right in front of her and with a smile so bright, nothing in the world seemed to bring her more joy than that single thought… It had said everything.
Sophie held Quilt’s gaze firmly. “Should you ever consider, even in the faintest, the thought of reclaiming what was once cast aside, then you have no time to waste on self-reproach. You should already be focused on cleaning yourself up. Getting a hot meal. Regaining your strength. Finding work. Saving enough to rent a modest home where the three of you can live together happily.”
Children can grow up well without their parents. As long as they feel loved, protected, and are surrounded by safety and people they can trust. In a place like that—in a place like Alastora—Sophie had no doubt Cecili and Mairi would thrive.
But there was something Alastora couldn’t give them.
That someone.
The one Cecili was still waiting for.
The one who could pick up where the story left off.
The one who could finally finish the tale of the Lotus Princess—for her and her sister, to whom she’d passed the story on again and again, always stopping at the same broken part, always ending with the two of them waiting for someone to come for them.
“The day you left them at the orphanage, Ms. Cecili counted to ten. She waited until her mother was out of sight. But she didn’t knock. Not right away. Not even after a while. She just stood there, holding Ms. Mairi in her arms, all the way until morning.”
Hearing that, Quilt covered her mouth with trembling hands and wept.
“Maybe she was waiting for her mother to come back around the corner. Maybe she clung to that hope through the cold and the fear. Because if she waited, maybe she’d get to eat donut holes with her mother again. And she wanted that more than anything. Because that—” Sophie’s voice softened, “—was the only time she’d ever seen her mother laugh.
“Even now, she’s waiting still. Quietly, but with purpose. She scrubs the floors. Polishes the windows. Holds tight to every memory and passes them down to her little sister. Because she believes that one day, their mother will return. That she’ll finish the story. That she’ll give them the ending they deserve.
“And Mairi—you should see her. Bright-eyed. Pure-hearted. She believes every word her sister tells her. Looks at her like she hung the stars. So tell me, Ms. Quilt—how much longer are you going to make them wait?”
Not a second longer, it seemed; Quilt sprang to her feet. “I’m going to wash myself right now!” she declared—and bolted.
“It’d be dangerous for you to run in your current state,” Claire gently called after her.
“The wells in the western square are warmest this time of year,” Raymond added.
They watched her disappear into the distance. When she was finally out of sight, they turned back to Sophie.
“Let’s return to the orphanage, shall we?” she said with a smile.