The next morning, I tried to get ready as quietly as I could, leaving Hyraj to sleep in… only to eventually look over and see her staring at me, still lying in bed.

“Did I wake you?” I asked with a sheepish smile.

“Is it that? There’s no helping it,” she said, her morning voice a throaty murmur. Not often I heard her speak before even a drink of water. As if conscious of that, she sat up, thin blanket sliding off, and took her cup, summoning water to fill it. No reason to look away, I watched her as she did.

Her nightwear wasn’t much different to mine, but certainly made of a nicer fabric, something she’d brought with her from home. Dull, coarse, yet cool to the touch like silk, not exactly like anything I knew. I thought about asking her what it was just about every day, but didn’t want to pester her. Felt like it might bring up unpleasant memories of her home.

After all, there was a reason she’d left.

Finished with her drink, she stood up, collected some clothes to change into, put on a cloak, and left. Even after all this time, she was too shy to change with me in the room. So cute. Out of respect for her, I took this time to also change. No need to make her feel uncomfortable.

While Mr Arl had sort of said I didn’t have to rush over, there wasn’t a reason for me to hang around the dorms either. So, after helping make and then eating breakfast, I headed out. The weather still couldn’t decide on what it wanted to do, wind blowing and the odd drop of rain hitting my face. If I was lucky, I thought, Mr Arl would be back before it started pouring, but the storm probably wouldn’t start until tomorrow anyway.

Arriving at his house, I knocked and, almost instantly, heard quick, light footsteps drumming along the hallway.

A light thump of an excited child not quite able to stop herself in time, then: “Is it Loulou?” Sisi asked.

“It is Loulou,” I replied, smile so wide my cheeks hurt.

The door opened with a click and a small hand darted out, grabbing mine and tugging me inside. “Papa said you aren’t gonna be here all day, so we haf to play quick,” she said, still pulling me.

Softly laughing, I had to pull back. “A moment, please,” I said, awkwardly slipping off my coat. She caught on and let go of me while I finished settling in.

When I looked up, I saw Mr Arl in the dining room’s doorway. He had a gentle smile and didn’t look quite so tired as usual. Still tired, mind you, but not as tired. I barely saw him in the mornings since he’d go out as soon as I arrived, only ever spoke after work.

Not that we had time to talk now—just a quick good morning while Sisi dragged me to the lounge, her peg doll waiting.

Nothing else was any different after that. For a while, Sisi kept playing by herself, my role to “nod” along and offer little questions now and then. “What is Lucy eating?”

Sisi pouted as she always did when thinking and eventually said, “Lal sannich.”

“Of course,” I said, tapping my thumb and finger together.

Looking down again, she carried on shuffling and bouncing Lucy, mumbling both sides of the imaginary conversation to herself, often stopping to brush aside her fringe. While not matted, her hair wasn’t in great shape. At a guess, her dad maybe got a brush through it once a week—probably with a lot of tears.

I still didn’t know exactly what my job was here. Or rather, what my place was? He’d always said it like I was just a babysitter, here to make sure she didn’t get into trouble and play with her if she was bored. We hadn’t really talked about it, but he seemed happy she was learning some things.

Family… what did it mean to be a family, to be part of a family? What place did I have here in their family? Was I outside of it, only allowed to look in, or did I have a place here to shape Sisi? Did he trust me that much? Did Sisi?

Though I was deep in thought, I still followed Sisi’s every word, watched her as she played. My superpower. So I watched as she picked at Lucy’s braid, remembering yesterday.

It wasn’t always about me.

I reached up and loosened my hat, pulling out the hair pin as I did, hair falling down. “Oh dear, my hair came loose,” I said, putting on a dramatic tone that worked so well on young kids. “Does Sisi have a brush I borrow?”

She glanced up, paused for a long second, then scurried off, both hands making the “yes” gesture. I swallowed the laugh that bubbled up and let out a sigh. Not a long journey, she soon returned, her quick footsteps pattering down the stairs and back into the lounge.

“My thanks,” I said, trying to ingrain the fancier way of saying it into her.

She held out the brush for me and I took it, looking it over. A strange brush. Hyraj’s was simple, a block of wood with, like, metal nails hammered in, more like a comb. Sisi’s had a smooth, metal base that fit the hand rather well, the short bristles very stiff. Prickly, too.

I brushed a few times myself, making sure there were no new knots, then coaxed Sisi to take over. Oh, she was so hesitant, barely touching my hair at first, but slowly got into it. I was far from an expert on these kinds of things, but I believed there was something in our genes that made us love brushing each other’s hair. Except… this was a different world, so did we even share any genes?

Putting aside my pointless thoughts, I let her brush some more before moving on to braiding my hair. While she still lacked the co-ordination for it, it wasn’t like anyone but Hyraj would be seeing my hair any time soon, hat kept on my lap, ready to be put on at a moment’s notice.

“That is it, over and under,” I softly said, giving her hands the smallest guidance.

“Mm,” she hummed, mouth in a deep pout, forehead wrinkled, little hands fumbling with the bundles of hair.

Though my hair wasn’t the longest, it took her a while to finish. A spare ribbon in my bag, I tied the braid with her, helping those little hands make the bow and everything. “Oh, thank you, this looks lovely,” I said, again really putting it on, as I made it back into a bun, hat going over it.

She giggled, cheeks puffed up with her proud smile.

A smile that froze when I then asked, “Should we braid your hair now?”

She seemed to shrink before my eyes, hunching her shoulders, lowering her head, arms crossed. A familiar sight that hit me all the harder for how unfamiliar she otherwise was. Like, I understood why the kids at the orphanage would act like this, but not Sisi. She had a dad who loved her, a home where she was safe. Such a bubbly child.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The thing about scars, though, was that they never faded away entirely. Definitely not so soon.

“Does the brush hurt?” I asked, how better to phrase it slipping my mind right now.

Her hand softly gestured “yes”.

I smiled, squatted down to her height—lower to look into her eyes. “In my old home, I brushed lots and lots of hair, so I’m very good…. Does papa brush your hair?”

Again, she gestured “yes”.

“Should I teach papa how to brush it gentle?”

One second, two—she gestured “yes”.

“That is it, then I’m going to brush your hair, okay?” I asked, bringing the brush closer to her.

She almost flinched, tensing up, but her hand once again made that little gesture. Only then did I start.

“You’re very brave,” I whispered, picking up a little of the end of her hair. “I’m proud of you.”

Her eyes were clenched shut, anticipating the pain. But it didn’t come. I’d brushed out plenty of neglected hair before, held it tightly so it didn’t pull, working on just a little bunch of hair, a little at a time.

It really brought me back to my bittersweet life in my old world.

After a minute or so, she began to soften, her face not so scrunched up and the rest of her not so tense. Eventually, she opened an eye and I could imagine she was thinking something like I hadn’t even been brushing her hair. But I had, showed her, running the brush freely through the brushed part.

“What does… proud mean?”

I hadn’t expected that question and, even if I had, it wouldn’t have helped me come up with a good answer. Mulling it over, I went with something simple that felt right to me. “It means I’m happy you did something good, and you should feel happy because you did something good.”

“This is… good?” she asked, her face scrunched up in confusion this time. A much more adorable look than before.

“It is good to brush our hair, and it is good you let me brush it even though you are scared,” I said, sort of meandering as I still struggled to explain this concept.

Though I said that, her fear seemed to have evaporated, now fascinated by this new word she’d learned. She pestered me with question after question, asking if this or that was something to be proud of, and I struggled with most of them, her imagination quite detailed for her age. Well, it kept her distracted from the brushing and sitting mostly still.

Once her hair was pretty much free of knots, I had her take over. Taught her. After all, the best way to not get painful knots was to brush them out before they got bad.

“Every morning, okay?” I said.

“Okay,” she said, her free hand happily clapping, had been for a while. Like a dog wagging her tail.

Braiding your own hair was a harder thing to learn than brushing, but I helped her with it, letting her practise while making sure it looked nice. Slow and steady, even redoing parts that didn’t work out well. The more practice, the better.

I hadn’t been keeping track of time, but I guessed a couple hours had passed since I arrived, no clue how long before Mr Arl came back. If it was an old friend, it made sense to at least have lunch together?

My thoughts drifting, Sisi went back to playing with her peg doll. Lucy was lucky enough to be treated to a “makeover”, Sisi undoing the ribbon and pretending to brush its hair, then awkwardly braiding it.

In the end, my thoughts turned out to be wrong and, while Frinnef was preparing lunch, a knock rang out on the door. Of course, Sisi was on her feet and running off the next second. Softly smiling, I followed after, just in time to hear her open the door.

Mr Arl was there alone. He hadn’t brought his friend back for lunch, then. A tired smile on his face. I wondered if it was bad news, not sure why else a couple hours of catching up would wear him out.

In the midst of her chatter, Sisi said, “Papa, look!” and lifted her hat.

He dutifully looked at first, then I saw him freeze; I imagined that some nasty thoughts probably came up. Echoes.

But Sisi was too excited to notice and kept talking. “Loulou teached me how to brush so it’s not sore, and how to braid it myself, and papa, I have to brush every morning so it doesn’t get sore, so I’ll teached you tomorrow, okay?”

Little by little, he melted, settling into a warm smile as he patted her head—she didn’t flinch away this time. “Okay, my sweet.”

Looking up at me, he still had that smile, but… there was more to it that I couldn’t tell. Like he was looking at me the same way he looked at Sisi.

“Frinnef, if Sisi could help for a while?” he called out.

Appearing in the doorway to the kitchen, Frinnef gestured “yes” with her hand. “Sure? Come on, Sisi.”

“’Kay,” Sisi said, pattering down the hall, glancing back every other step with a broad smile.

Mr Arl stood there until she disappeared into the kitchen, then sighed. For the first time in a while, he went to take his hat off, only to stop himself at the last moment, settling it back on neatly. “Shall we?” he said, gesturing at the dining room.

I smiled in reply and led the way, being the closer one. Out of habit, I sat at the seat I did for meals; maybe for the same reason, he sat in his seat.

“That is it… my friend, he—Miss Louise isn’t too familiar with this country, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes,” I said.

Mr Arl tapped the table. “It is not the capital city, but he works in a large city by the sea. They, that is, the company he runs, requires someone with—I have been offered a more than reasonable job.”

“Congratulations?” I said, unsure what tone to use with how he wasn’t exactly acting happy about it.

He gave a half-hearted smile. “My thanks. It is… I would begin to move once the storms pass. There is much to do with selling the house and such, so not an immediate change….”

I wondered if that was it. This house, he’d bought it with his wife? All those rooms upstairs, maybe they planned to give it to Sisi one day and hoped she would have a big family. It couldn’t be easy to leave the place they had called home. I didn’t know that feeling, but I could imagine it.

“Mr Arl?”

He brought up his hand, balled in a fist, and brushed his nose before putting it back down. “I spoke of other things with my friend too. He, I…. Truth be told, what I fear most about this job is taking Sisi away from you,” he said, falling to a whisper by the end. “She has been so happy. I… understand now that Sisi needs a mother.”

It felt like I should know what he was thinking, but it wasn’t quite falling into place, something not clicking. Stuck on that, I didn’t answer before he spoke again.

“I cannot ask a maiden to travel so far for my selfishness, and it would be an immense selfishness to ask you to wed for my child. However, for my child, I would do any shameful act. I cannot promise you love, but anything else you desire, it shall be yours.”

My brain actually broke, didn’t dare believe what I thought he was asking. “That is it… w-what are you said?” I asked, thankful I could even put that much together.

He looked away, pinching his ear. “That is it, I am asking to make a wife of you,” he whispered. “Shameful as it is for me to ask one so much younger than myself, someone I barely know, someone I have no such feelings for, I must ask. Sisi… needs a mother more than I need my dignity.”

I stared at him for a moment, then took in a deep breath, and let out a laugh. A soft laugh, little more than a breath, but it carried with it all the confusion I had been feeling, leaving me calm.

“Hy—Miss Hyraj told them I am a no-parents?” I asked, remembering my manners.

The rest of him didn’t move, but his hand gestured “yes”.

“I… don’t know if my mother ever held me. If she ever kissed my cheek. If she ever told me she loved me. However, Sisi does. She has a mother and she will always if you tell her. She will remember her mother’s warm, her mother’s love. I know… because I have saw children who lost it. They never forget what they lost. Sisi, if you tell her, she won’t lose it. She will remember it.”

Pausing there, I took a breath. Didn’t want to let the emotions overwhelm me.

“Know how… I cannot be her mother. If we… wed, then I will be her second-mother”—the literal way they said step-mother and there could also be third-mother and so on—“and I wouldn’t not want to be her first-mother.”

I stopped there, anything else I thought to say just going around in circles.

He sat in silence. Didn’t move, like he didn’t even blink. I worried for a moment that I might have broken him. Then he spoke, just one word that I translated as two: “Of course.”

Taking a mental step back, I realised I hadn’t actually answered his literal proposal. “I don’t not want to wed,” I said, using the double-negative to emphasise it. “Sisi has a lot of love, and Mr Arl does too. I am not special. There will be someone like me there, I know.”

At last, he showed some emotion, his mouth curling into a wry smile. “I truly doubt there will be anyone quite like Miss Louise, but I understand. Please, forget about my lapse in judgement,” he said.

I let out another light breath of laughter. Silence settling, my thoughts churned, then hit upon something. “Ah, for brushing her hair when it is knots, you hold it tight at the top, and brush the end first, then a little higher, then a little higher,” I said, miming the actions as I did.

He watched me with a straight face, only to burst into laughter the moment I finished, covering his mouth with a fist. “Truly, I cannot imagine meeting someone quite like Miss Louise.”

I decided to take that as a compliment.