Shattered Reflections

Episode 2

The journey to the Hawthorne’s house was like something out of a dream. Elara sat in the backseat of their sleek, black car, staring out the window as the city blurred by. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the streets glistened under the fading light of the afternoon. She couldn’t stop glancing at Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne in the front seat, still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that these people were her parents.

Mrs. Hawthorne turned in her seat to smile at Elara. “We live a little way out of the city, in the countryside,” she explained. “It’s peaceful there, and there’s plenty of space for you to play and explore.”

Elara nodded, though she could hardly imagine what that would be like. She had never been outside the city before, never seen anything beyond the walls of the orphanage and the few streets surrounding it.

As they drove, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne told her stories about their home, about the big garden where flowers bloomed in every color, about the swing hanging from the old oak tree, and about the cozy little room they had prepared just for her. Elara listened in awe, feeling like she had stepped into one of the fairy tales she used to read at the orphanage.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally slowed as they turned onto a long, winding driveway. Elara’s breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the house. It was more of a mansion than a house, with tall, elegant windows and ivy creeping up the stone walls. The lawn was expansive, stretching out in all directions, and the garden was even more beautiful than she had imagined, with rows of flowers swaying gently in the breeze.

The car came to a stop in front of the house, and Mr. Hawthorne got out to open the door for Elara. She stepped out, her legs feeling unsteady as she took in her surroundings. It was almost too much to take in all at once—the size of the house, the beauty of the garden, the sheer sense of space and freedom.

“Welcome home, Elara,” Mrs. Hawthorne said, her voice filled with emotion. She took Elara’s hand and led her up the steps to the front door. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and they stepped inside.

The interior of the house was just as grand as the outside. The floors were polished wood, and the walls were adorned with paintings and ornate mirrors. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow over the entrance hall. Elara felt as if she had walked into a palace.

“This is your home now,” Mr. Hawthorne said, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. “You can go wherever you like, explore every room. There’s no need to be afraid.”

Elara nodded, though she still felt a little overwhelmed. She had never been in a place so large, so luxurious. It was like stepping into another world.

Mrs. Hawthorne led her down a hallway, stopping in front of a door painted a soft shade of blue. “This will be your room,” she said with a smile, opening the door and guiding Elara inside.

The room was beautiful, with a large window that let in plenty of light, and a bed with a canopy draped in soft, white fabric. There were bookshelves filled with storybooks, a small desk by the window, and a wardrobe in the corner. Everything was neat and tidy, as if it had been waiting just for her.

Elara walked slowly around the room, touching everything with a sense of wonder. It was perfect—more perfect than anything she had ever imagined.

Mrs. Hawthorne sat down on the edge of the bed, watching Elara with a soft smile. “Do you like it?” she asked.

Elara nodded, unable to find the words to express how much she loved it. She felt tears prickling at the corners of her eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness.

Mrs. Hawthorne stood and walked over to Elara, kneeling in front of her. “We’re so happy you’re here, Elara,” she said, her voice filled with sincerity. “We’ve waited so long to have you back with us.”

Elara felt a lump in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “I’m happy to be here,” she whispered.

Mrs. Hawthorne pulled her into another embrace, and Elara leaned into her, feeling the warmth and comfort she had longed for all her life. For the first time, she felt truly safe.

The days that followed were like a dream. Elara explored every corner of the Hawthorne’s mansion, discovering new rooms and hidden nooks where she could curl up with a book or simply sit and think. Mrs. Hawthorne spent hours with her, telling her stories about their family, teaching her how to bake cookies in the kitchen, and showing her how to tend to the flowers in the garden. Mr. Hawthorne took her on walks around the estate, pointing out the different types of trees and birds, and telling her about the history of the house.

But as much as Elara tried to settle into her new life, there was a part of her that couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was like a small, nagging doubt in the back of her mind, a shadow that darkened her happiness just a little. She tried to ignore it, to focus on the warmth and love she was being given, but it was always there, lurking beneath the surface.

Then one day, as she was playing in the garden, she heard the sound of a car pulling up the driveway. She looked up and saw a sleek, black car coming to a stop in front of the house, just like the one that had brought her here. But this time, when the door opened, it wasn’t Mr. or Mrs. Hawthorne who stepped out.

It was a girl, around Elara’s age, with golden hair that shimmered in the sunlight. She was dressed in a pale blue dress that looked expensive, the kind of dress Elara had only seen in shop windows. The girl had a bright smile on her face as she ran up the steps to the house, her laughter ringing out like a bell.

Elara watched, frozen in place, as the girl reached the front door. Mrs. Hawthorne appeared in the doorway, her face lighting up with joy as she saw the girl.

“Cassia, my darling!” Mrs. Hawthorne exclaimed, opening her arms wide. The girl, Cassia, rushed into her embrace, hugging her tightly.

Elara felt a strange sensation in her chest, a mix of confusion and something else she couldn’t quite name. She watched as Mrs. Hawthorne and Cassia disappeared into the house, leaving her standing alone in the garden.

Who was this girl? And why did she seem so familiar with the Hawthornes?

Elara slowly made her way back to the house, her mind racing with questions. As she stepped inside, she heard laughter coming from the sitting room. She walked quietly down the hallway, peeking around the corner to see what was going on.

Cassia was sitting on the couch, talking animatedly with Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne. They were all smiling, their faces glowing with happiness. Elara felt a pang of jealousy, a feeling she had never experienced before. She had always been the quiet, unnoticed one, never the center of attention. But here was this girl, so effortlessly charming and bright, fitting into the family as if she had always belonged.

Elara backed away, not wanting to intrude on their moment. She retreated to her room, her mind swirling with emotions she didn’t understand. Who was Cassia? And what did her arrival mean for Elara’s place in the family?