Days began to settle into a rhythm. Mornings were busy—me helping Emily with her socks, making sure Josh had his school bag, and then all of us piling into Mr. Philip's car as Jordan dropped us off at our schools.
At Ridgeview Girls' College, the days were structured, elegant, and slow to warm. I moved through them quietly—attentive in class, polite in the hallways, invisible in the cafeteria.
Until one afternoon, as I sat on a low stone bench in the school garden, nibbling on crackers and sipping juice, someone spoke.
"Are those the honey crackers from the library café?" a cheerful voice asked.
I looked up, surprised.
A girl stood there—tall and lean, with springy curls and a warm, curious smile. Her eyes sparkled with a friendliness that didn't feel forced.
"Yeah," I said softly, unsure how to respond.
"I knew it," she grinned. "They're the best. Mind if I sit?"
I hesitated for just a second, then nodded.
She plopped down beside me, swinging her bag to the side. "I'm Maya. Maya Benson. We're in literature together—I sit two rows behind you."
I blinked, then slowly smiled. "I'm Anne."
"I know," Maya said, still grinning. "You always look like you're thinking really deep thoughts."
I laughed—genuinely. My heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. Maya was bold, funny, a little dramatic—and she kept the conversation flowing with ease.
We talked for a while, giggling over the way our history teacher always said nonetheless like it was a spell, and how Miss Lavelle somehow managed to turn every novel into a life lesson.
The conversation drifted to the things we liked—me admitting how much I loved sketching when no one was watching, and Maya lighting up as she talked about her obsession with baking shows.
"Okay, okay," Maya said suddenly, standing and brushing crumbs off her skirt. "I'm calling it. We're officially friends."
She extended her hand like it was a grand declaration.
I blinked, warmth blooming in my chest. I reached out and shook her hand, smiling. "Yes… friends."
We walked together afterward, pointing out dorm halls we liked, classrooms we avoided, quiet corners where we could disappear from the chaos.
When it was time to part, we waved with promises to meet at lunch the next day.
That afternoon, as I sat in the backseat of Mr. Philip's car, my head leaned against the window, the smile still lingered.
I tilted my head back, watching the sky drift by. Then I remembered—Mr. Philip's wife and kids were returning in just two days. Saturday.
My fingers tightened around my bag strap. I didn't know exactly how to feel. A part of me was nervous, unsure what their return would mean for me and my siblings.
But there was also curiosity—maybe even a quiet excitement.
I couldn't help wondering what kind of woman had won the heart of someone like Mr. Philip. He was kind, steady, selfless. His wife must be extraordinary too.
The city moved past the window in slow motion as my thoughts floated between hope and hesitation.
That evening, the house was calm. Josh and Emily were curled up in the living room with popcorn and a cartoon, giggling under their blanket fort. I helped in the kitchen for a bit before heading upstairs.
I laid out my uniform, packed my books, then sat by the window for a while, staring out at the stillness of the street.
My thoughts kept circling back to Saturday.
What if things change?
What if the warmth in this house fades once the real family comes home?
I shook my head, brushing the thought away. Mr. Philip had reassured me over and over.
Still… I couldn't help but guard my heart, just in case.
The next day, I met Maya at lunch like we'd agreed. We shared snacks, traded stories, and laughed more than we ate. It was easy—being with her. For once, lunch wasn't something to get through. It was something to enjoy.
After school, Emily chattered about what she painted, and Josh showed off a sticker from his teacher.
But when the car pulled into the driveway, I didn't move right away.
My eyes lingered on the house a little longer.
It was Friday.
One more night.
Then everything could change.