Two days in a row. Did Maisie even love Milo anymore? She didn’t say goodbye that morning, either. She just left… with Feya.

Milo refused to play with his toys that day. He moped on the couch on his special blue blanket, slept, and tried to figure out what he had done wrong. Why did Maisie suddenly choose Feya over him? She had a Service Dog!

He pulled the blanket out from under him, shook it a few times, and tossed it into the kitchen.

Milo jumped down and leaped for the front door’s handle, grabbing it. He heard arguing on the other side and let go, backing up.

The door opened, and finally, in came Maisie with that girl!

“Feya,” she said, ignoring Milo, “the prosthetic needs to come off. You’re hurting yourself. That’s why you’re stumbling so much.”

“As if!” Feya countered. “I’m fine.”

“You fell getting off the bus.”

“That was an accident.”

“Feya, listen to me. I can get you a wheelchair.” Maisie clutched her wrist, but Feya ripped it free.

“No! No wheelchairs!”

“Feya…”

“It’s my leg! Not yours!”

“You can’t keep it on 24-hours! You’ll damage what you have left of your leg!”

“It’s ugly, Maisie! I don’t want people to see it!” Feya chucked her Flamingo Crossings keycard. A few tears trickled down her cheeks. “I’m keeping it on, and you can’t stop me!”

Milo hoped they were about to break up. He would get Maisie back if they did. Anticipation tugged him, and he patiently waited.

“Why is it so important that you keep it on?” Maisie challenged.

Feya’s bottom lip twitched. Her following sentence changed everything for Milo. “It helps me forget the bomb!”

Oh gosh, why was Milo so selfish? It was as if someone impaled him on an anchor and dropped him into the ocean.

Feya sank to her knees and clutched her leg. “It helps me forget the bomb. It’s all I’ll see if I remove it.”

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Maisie’s face eased. She kneeled and stretched her arm across her knee, facing Feya. “Feya, I hate to be blunt, but you’re never getting your leg back.” She picked up her keycard and handed it to her.

“I know, Maisie,” Feya hiccupped, “but no matter how hard I try, I can’t accept it. I was so stupid.”

“Arf.” Daisy leaned against her.

“Is there something you’re not telling me? About the bomb?” Maisie gently pulled Feya up.

“Why should I tell you if you won’t open up?” Feya pushed past her and dropped onto the couch.

Milo went to Maisie and meowed.

Finally, she looked at him and sighed. “It was my brother.”

“Your brother?” Feya gripped the couch’s edge. “He was the one you lost?”

Maisie nodded. “Yes. Two years ago.” Milo noticed a lump forming in her throat.

Feya reached for her lips. “Oh, Maisie, I’m so sorry. How-How did he die?”

Maisie appeared slightly offended. “You don’t ask people that.”

“Sorry.” A dash of embarrassment hit Feya’s cheeks. “May I ask if he was older or younger?”

“Older. By three years.” Maisie sat beside her.

They were so close that Milo felt another bout of jealousy but brushed it off.

He hopped onto the couch and settled on Maisie’s lap, purring. He recognized melancholy in Daisy’s eyes, too.

“He was about to move in with me for college,” Maisie explained, edging closer to Feya. “We were so excited to leave home and find our paths together. He attended my college, loved it, and couldn’t wait to return to Charleston.” She flicked a tear away. “I found him, Feya, the day we were supposed to leave. I just… I don’t understand. He was so happy the day before.”

Feya grasped Maisie’s shoulder. “What was his name?”

“Matthew.”

“Victoriya was my friend. You realize how much you love them when they’re gone. But, Maisie…” Feya hugged her to her chest. “We’ve got to try to move on. I didn’t ask for a war, but I got one. However, I also know war doesn’t last forever. Grief’s the same way. It’s hard early on, but like war, it becomes a memory in time. A painful one but the start of a new adventure.”

Maisie pushed off her and smiled feebly.

Milo stood on her lap and held his front paws out to her. That was the most beautiful thing he had heard from Feya’s mouth.

Maisie picked him up and pecked his cheek. She glanced at Feya. “I have to ask, Feya, what does your name mean?”

She smiled, too. “Beautiful fairy. When I was young, I asked my mom where I came from, and she said I was a gift from the fairies. That’s why she named me Feya.”

“You are a gift,” Maisie admitted. “The fairies did well.”

They both chuckled.

“What about you?” Feya inquired. “What does Maisie mean?”

“Pearl, but my mom named me after her. Her name is Mary Claire. Matthew’s named after my dad.” The sadness returned to Maisie’s face, and she lowered her head. Silence followed, but only for a minute.

“We can do this, Maisie,” Feya assured. “Disney won’t know what hit them. Our roars will send them flying.”

Maisie held Milo out to her. “And our animals will be with us the whole way.”

Feya mimicked Maisie’s action. “That’s right. The fairy, pearl, and animal sidekicks. The perfect recipe for a Disney movie!”

Milo peered into Maisie’s face, and Daisy looked at Feya.

While Milo wasn’t thrilled to work with a fairy and her dog, his pearl needed him. Yes, his sibling was important, but not as important as Maisie’s wish. He hoped that, in time, she would come clean about that dreaded December 2021.

Feya, too. What really happened the day she lost her leg?