A few days after the family meeting, Sarah woke early, savoring a rare moment of peace in the quiet house. Instead of returning to bed, she snuck out of bed, deciding to enjoy the moment of solitude before the day’s chaos began. As she brewed her morning coffee, her thoughts drifted from daily personal and professional tasks to the larger, more perplexing reality of their lives.

She replayed the recent discussion with Thomas and Emily from just a few days ago, recalling their vows and the image of the intertwined threads Emily had used to describe her and Daniel’s connection. The dreamscape, the shared consciousness, Daniel accidentally driving Emily’s body, “two becoming one”—these concepts still baffled her, yet she couldn’t help but try to search for the right words to grasp this new and strange reality.

As Sarah poured a cup of freshly brewed morning coffee, her thoughts drifted to Emily’s future as she grew up. How would her daughter’s dual reality manifest in their everyday life? What implications would it have for Sarah her role as a mother and nurturer?

Emily had mentioned more than once that her consciousnesses were evolving—what surprises might that bring? Sarah couldn’t help but wonder if there were others akin to Emily, children or adults who could offer insights or guidance to their family.

Sarah’s quiet morning was abruptly interrupted by the creak of a bed and a soft thump followed by an indignant "Ow!" from Emily’s room.

"Did she roll out of bed again?" Sarah mused with a chuckle.

Emily's nighttime antics were legendary - her tendency to toss and turn violently, had made any night she joined them in bed a memorable ordeal. The sheets were always in disarray, and the variety of Emily's sleep intriguing positions often turned a peaceful night's sleep into an eventful, albeit endearing, test for both Sarah and Thomas.

Momentarily, Emily emerged downstairs, grumbling and rubbing her back, looking a little less than pleased with her ignominious fall. Her mood immediately brightened at the sight of her mother, and she gave Sarah a big hug.

“Good morning, Em,” Sarah responded, still nursing her coffee and giving Emily a quick peck on the head. 'Didn’t hurt yourself, did you?” she inquired with a mischievous twinkle.

Emily, still massaging her back, responded with feigned indignation, “You know... most moms would check if their kid was fine after falling flat on their back.”

Unable to resist a quip, Sarah instinctively responded, “Well, most moms haven’t seen their kids roll out of bed every two days and walk away without a scratch.”

“Plus... you have a carpet to cushion your falls,” she added with a playful wink.

"Fair enough," Emily admitted, pulling up a seat and yawning. She eyed her mom's coffee cup for a moment before hesitatingly asking, "Could I try a bit...too?"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Em," Sarah responded, her head shaking in a mix of disagreement and amusement as she recalled a memorable incident. "Don't you remember what happened last time?" she chuckled, trying to stifle her laughter.

Emily sheepishly grinned, recalling the chaos of a few months prior when her curiosity led her to drink a large cup of coffee. The caffeine had sent her bouncing off the walls for hours, so much so that her parents had resorted to coaxing her to expend her seemingly endless energy by running non-stop in the backyard, all while belting out off-key renditions of Daniel's favorite '80s and '90s hits.

"I know, Mom, but it smells amazing. And Daniel loved coffee so much—I can taste it through his memories. I just need to try again. I also know my tolerance better now - I’m not asking for an entire cup - just a little bit!" Emily pleaded with wide, curious eyes.

The earnestness in her plea caught Sarah off guard, reminding her once again of the unique complexities within her daughter. There was also the potential for endless whining to consider.

After a brief pause, filled with a mix of concern and amusement, Sarah decided to let Emily experiment with a small sip of coffee. She poured a tiny amount into a separate cup, handing it over with a gentle reminder, "Be careful, it’s quite hot."

Emily eagerly sniffed the coffee, her eyes lighting up. 'Wow, it smells so good!' She took a cautious sip, only to immediately spit it back out, exclaiming, “Oh God...and it tastes like... sh—merde,” she hastily switched to French—a language she picked up from Daniel’s memories—clearly hoping to avoid a reprimand for her language.

Sarah couldn't help but burst into silent laughter at her daughter's quick switch to French, a clever dodge she hadn't expected. Even though she didn't understand French, the intent was unmistakable.

Watching Emily's dramatic reaction, Sarah thought to herself, "Maybe it's better to let her learn some of these lessons on her own terms." She continued sipping her coffee, musing, "This little experiment was certainly..entertaining."

“Acquired taste?” Emily muttered, making a concentrated face. “How does one even start to acquire a taste like this?”

Sarah watched, still amused by Emily’s dramatic reaction, but was also increasingly fascinated by the seamless interaction between her daughter and this invisible presence. “Are you talking to him right now?” she asked with a curious tilt of her head, keenly aware of anxiety brewing too.

“Yeah, usually it’s automatic; I don’t even have to think about it. But sometimes, especially with something like this…” Emily glared at the offending cup of coffee, “I realize that memories don’t always align with reality, and I need to have a direct chat with him.”

She grumbled, “Silly boy, what are you laughing at?’ Sarah noticed a small smile beneath the grumbling and glare, her annoyance clearly tinged with affection despite it all.

—

Watching Emily banter with Daniel, Sarah was reminded of her own childhood — playful bickering with her younger brother, Jack.

The sibling-like dynamic between Emily and Daniel, marked by irritation yet clearly affectionate, offered Sarah some much needed reassurance. It echoed the bonds of her own past, providing a glimpse of much needed normalcy in their extraordinary situation

“What do you mean, try a latte? Mix it up a bit?,” Emily muttered to herself, her curiosity piqued. “Actually, that looks really good… let’s give it a shot,” she added excitedly. “Hmm - maybe Daniel is showing her recipes? Images? What must it look or feel like?”

Sarah wondered sipping her own beverage as momentarily anxiety was replaced by curiosity.

Before she could say a word, Emily slid off the chair and began rummaging through the kitchen like a bat out of hell. She gathered an assortment of ingredients—chocolate, milk, sugar, cream, and whipped cream—clearly determined to modify the coffee to her liking.

With a whisk in hand, she enthusiastically set to work, muttering the entire time conceivably to her invisible partner as she concocted her own version of a caffeinated drink.

As Emily worked on her concoction, Sarah watched with a blend of amusement and concern. It was fascinating to see how Emily’s childlike creativity meshed seamlessly with Daniel’s knowledge. But as she observed, Sarah’s thoughts turned inward.

“What does it feel like to have this… second voice?” she wondered. “What if you need to be alone? Can you even be alone? Does Daniel see everything? Emily did say they give each other space when they need to…what does that even look like?”

The questions nagged at her, bringing a new layer of concern. The idea that her daughter’s mind wasn’t entirely her own was always moderately to extremely unsettling.

Sarah looked down at her coffee, the warmth of the cup offering little comfort.

“Does all this also put an emotional strain on my daughter? I know she changes her behavior to fit in with her peers, sometimes hiding or backtracking when she starts sounding too adult-like… This must be exhausting for her, and it’s not like there’s therapy for something like this.”

As the concern deepened, a more troubling thought emerged. “And what if Daniel… disappears? What if he vanished just like he appeared? What would happen to Emily then?” Would she be okay or would it be - catastrophic?”

A flash of anger and hostility flared as she thought about this putative interloper who had forced his way into their lives.

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“Gosh, you’ve complicated things, Daniel. How am I supposed to parent a child like this? Am I supposed to parent you too? Emily says you’re doing your best to help, but it’s hard to know where my role begins and ends.”

As the frustration reached a boiling point, Emily’s words echoed in her mind - “He’s sorry okay? He didn’t ask for this either.”

Sarah gasped as she recalled Emily, standing determined yet pleading for her invisible brother - “He didn’t choose this any more than I did. Whatever brought him here, it jammed him into my head without explanation or consent.”

Daniel hadn’t chosen to be here, he hadn’t schemed his way into Emily’s life. He had simply woken up one day in her daughter’s body, bewildered and scared.

Sarah closed her eyes, the anger and tension within her shifting into something more complex. How could she be angry at someone who had been ripped from their own life, their world, without consent?

At that moment it finally hit Sarah - she truly understood - Daniel wasn’t just some intruder; he was a lost soul, as much a victim of this strange cosmic accident as Emily.

She sighed deeply, massaging her temple. “This isn’t fair,” she whispered, her voice softening. “Not to Emily, not to Daniel, not to any of us.”

As she continued her self soothing routine, she remembered Emily once again advocating on behalf of Daniel - “He loved being your kid. He doesn’t admit it, but in some ways, you were the mom and dad he always wished he had.”

Sarah’s eyes opened, her eyes glazing as her thoughts drifted once again to something gentler - something maternal. Emily had said that for some time, Daniel had been their child.

She looked outside the window at bare branches - such a contrast to the summer just a few months ago. She remembered the moments that Emily hadn’t entirely felt like Emily—the way “her daughter” had listened intently to her stories, the shy eagerness to help Sarah in the kitchen, the occasional flicker of maturity in those big, curious eyes.

It hadn’t always been Emily. For a while - it had been Daniel.

It had been Daniel who clung to her when “Emily” had a nightmare. It was Daniel who beamed with happiness when Sarah praised “Emily”. It was Daniel who devoured her pancakes, Daniel who watched movies as “Emily” leaned on her, Daniel who laughed at her jokes, who went shopping with her, whom Sarah had to teach how to ‘dress up’, who - for a brief moment - called her ‘mom’.

The thought should have angered her, but for some reason, she felt it fill her with a strange, reluctant warmth. Daniel, for the time he ‘drove’ Emily’s body —he had been kind, eager, playful and vulnerable. He had looked at her with the same trust and affection Emily did.

He had even called her “Mom.”

“He was confused, but he adored you both - he still does.”

Another memory of Emily advocating for her invisible partner flashed through Sarah’s mind.

Her coffee trembled in her hands as she set the cup down, her heart heavy with conflicting emotions. “How do I…reconcile all of this?” she wondered silently. “I feel for my daughter - but what is this I feel for Danny…Daniel? Sympathy? Affection? Love? All of the above?”

She thought back to what Emily had said about Daniel protecting them during the tornado.

“You did save all of us and then some” Sarah muttered reluctantly, affection and confusion mixing in her tone. “You didn’t ask for this, you didn’t come here by choice, yet - you’ve been kind to my daughter, you’ve tried looking after us when it mattered most”.

With a deep sigh she put her coffee cup down and quietly conceded “Maybe that’s why I can’t bring myself to stay angry. In those moments, whether it was Emily or Daniel, you both felt like my child.”

—

Sarah hadn’t realized that Emily had finished her experiment and returned to the table with her new concoction, and was now gazing at Sarah.

She looked up, startled, to meet Emily’s eyes—eyes that seemed to reflect wisdom beyond her years. The morning light filtering through the kitchen window embraced Emily in a manner that accentuated this sudden maturity making her daughter seem almost ethereal. Sarah’s breath caught, her heart tightened, a mixture representing both her awe and hesitation.

“Hey Mom,” Emily began, her voice carrying a weight that felt far, far older than her youthful appearance, “I know this is all strange and scary. But I’m okay. You’re okay. We will all be okay.”

Sarah gripped her coffee cup more tightly, the lingering warmth contrasting with the chill that had momentarily seized her.

“Thank you, Emily, I want to believe we will be okay - but I worry,” she finally admitted, her voice softening to a near whisper. “I want to be there for you, be your rock but - I worry, so much.”

She gently played with Emily’s hair, unconsciously twirling it as she murmured another unconscious thought “Sometimes I worry about you, other times Daniel, you’re my child, he was my child for some time, I feel angry at how it all happened but I understand he had no choice…sometimes I don’t know what I should feel!”

She looked up at her daughter, feeling her eyes beginning to grow misty “And what about you? Are you missing out on a childhood because of all this.” Almost choking, she softly added “What if I can’t give you the support and guidance that you need? That you deserve? What if I can’t be the mom you deserve?”

Emily stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Sarah in a hug that was unexpectedly parental - initially unsettling but then deeply reassuring.

Sarah took a deep breath instinctively - the familiar scent of Emily’s shampoo mingling with the faint aroma and novelty of coffee and whipped cream, effectively grounding her in that moment.

This wasn't just any hug, Sarah realized, feeling a role reversal she hadn't anticipated. It was protective and profound, almost as if an older, caring family member was comforting her, not just her daughter.

Was this her daughter’s embrace alone, or was it Daniel’s presence too, reaching out to comfort her? The thought stirred something deep inside her that should have been unsettling but oddly felt - comforting.

"I know I’ve said it before mom, but I don’t understand why Daniel ended up here," Emily looked up at her mother, her face set with gravity that belied her years.

"He doesn’t know either. One moment he wasn’t there, and the next, he was—suddenly pulled from his own universe and merged with mine."

Her voice softened as she continued, "But once I began to grasp what was happening, once I could finally share it with you and Dad, things started to change for the better. I’ve felt happier than I ever thought possible.”

She leaned back to look at Sarah and with a smile added “I can’t imagine my life without this bond now, despite how strange it seems, and one day soon, I think it will feel normal to you too. I think - you’ll see that isn’t something to be scared of or overthink, that Daniel and I will look after you just like you looked after us all this time…”

Sarah’s mouth opened, trembling slightly with emotion, but words wouldn’t come out. Her throat tightened, her heart pumped and her chest ached with bewilderment and something more - tender.

Instead she felt Emily resume her embrace slightly more tightly. The soothing hug, mixed with the curious sense of encountering something or someone both deeply familiar and foreign, stirred a complex mix of emotions within her.

"Mom, you've always been there for me, even when the full picture wasn’t clear to you, even when I hid my secret from you,” Emily whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You've given me so much strength, and through me, you've also helped that idiot brother of mine start healing.”

Gently rubbing her mother’s back, she continued, “I know you’re scared - but you’ve been so brave, kind, and understanding even though this is a crazy journey. You accepted me, you’re learning to understand Daniel, and now - we are all on this beautiful, crazy journey that I wouldn't trade for anything.”

She leaned back again and with a playful wink added “ I know all of this can be scary, but we’re in it together. And I promise, I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. We will be fine. Just give it time and don’t overthink it..”

—

With one final, comforting squeeze, Emily turned her attention back to her latte, and took an overly generous sip. Her eyes widened and turned gleeful, and before Sarah knew what happened, giggled with delight and proceeded to positively chug the rest of the beverage.

It was Sarah’s turn to giggle, for as Emily set the cup down, the face that emerged was framed with a whipped cream ‘moustache.’

“Now THAT is what I call coffee, my dear madam!” Emily declared in a playful British accent, causing Sarah’s tension to abruptly and completely dissipate, her giggle turning into a chuckle, and then momentarily into all out hearty laughter.

Emily beamed - thoroughly pleased with herself and couldn’t help but continue the charade. “My dear madam, what in the world do you find so amusing?” she continued in her faux accent.

“Your moustache, my dear… sir,” Sarah replied as she reached for Emily’s face with a napkin. “Sit still, sir! Your moustache needs a trim!” she added playfully, as Emily dodged the attempt with giggles, squirming in her seat.

“Madam, what on earth do you think you are doing? Leave my moustache alone, I say!” Emily protested, her accent becoming even more ridiculous as her eyes twinkled mischievously.

After a brief period of playful resistance, Sarah was finally successful in wiping her daughter’s ‘moustache’ despite the squaks and squeals of mock indignation her daughter unleashed.

“There. All clean,” Sarah declared, folding the napkin, looking positively pleased with herself. “Though I must admit, your moustache—that was quite the masterpiece,” she continued, conceding with a teasing grin. “Almost museum-worthy!”

Eyeing what remained of Emily’s coffee, Sarah found herself intrigued by its aroma. “Emily - can I have a sip too?” she asked tentatively.

“Of course, Mom,” Emily responded with a playful wink, her voice still tinged with that exaggerated British lilt. “I think you’ll enjoy this far more than that charcoal rubbish you drink.”

Taking a cautious sip, Sarah’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Wow! This is actually good!” she exclaimed, genuinely surprised. “You and Daniel make one heck of a barista team,” she added, her laughter bubbling up again as Emily beamed with satisfaction and pride.

As she made a mental note to let Emily tweak her coffee more often, Sarah found herself struck by a realization: this silly, absurd, wonderfully ridiculous moment—it had disarmed her fears.

Emily’s comfort, or perhaps the shared influence of Emily and Daniel’s combined presence, had softened her anxieties. It hadn’t erased them—far from it—but it reminded her of what truly mattered. Her mischievous, kind, generous, sassy daughter. Her light. The strength and grace Emily had shown in embracing her extraordinary reality, with more poise than Sarah herself could muster.

“If you helped bring that out, Daniel,” Sarah thought to herself with a small smile, “then you can’t be too bad. And honestly… you’re a sweet kid in your own way, too.”