Fortuitous: When Fate Brings Us Together

Chapter 1 - Hatred “Dad is late again,” an 8-year-old girl said sadly, her tiny shoes scuffing against the living room carpet as she lowered her gaze to her feet. Her voice was soft, almost trembling, the kind of sadness only a child could carry—too pure, too heavy for such a small heart. “He must be busy, sweetie. Don’t be sad. Just wait a little longer—Dad will surely come soon,” her mother reassured gently. She leaned down and patted her daughter’s back, her hand lingering there, as if trying to shield her from disappointment. “But today is my birthday, Mama!” the girl pouted, her lips curving downward as she crossed the room. She climbed onto the couch, sitting with a dramatic thump, and rested her chin on her palm like a little adult who had already grown tired of broken promises. The clock on the wall ticked on mercilessly. One hour passed, then another. The candles on the small cake flickered, waiting to be lit, but no one had the heart to touch them. The child’s eyes kept darting to the door, her hope dimming with each minute that passed. Her mother’s heart ached. She glanced at her daughter’s tiny shoulders slumping more and more with every tick of the clock. A guilty sigh slipped from her lips. “Oh dear…” she whispered under her breath, though her voice carried enough sadness for her daughter to hear. Before she could move to comfort her child, the sudden ring of the doorbell echoed through the house. Ding-Dong Her heartbeat leapt with relief. She rushed to open the door, her hands trembling slightly. When she saw who it was, a faint, weary smile touched her lips. “You’re late again, honey.” Her husband stood there, breathless, his tie loosened and his shirt wrinkled from the day. Guilt was etched across his face. “I’m so sorry,” he began quickly, stepping inside. “I got stuck on the road—my car’s tire got punctured, and it took a lot of time to fix. I’m really sorry.” His gaze shifted past his wife’s shoulder, landing on the small figure sitting silently on the couch. The man’s chest tightened. He had seen that posture before—head turned away, arms crossed, chin lifted in defiance. Their daughter, their little princess, was hurt again. He walked slowly toward her and knelt so his eyes were level with hers. “Papa is sorry, Riona.” But the girl stubbornly turned her face away, refusing to look at him. “Today’s my birthday,” she muttered, her voice shaking, “and Papa promised to take Riona to the big restaurant for dinner…” The man’s throat tightened. He reached out, gently patting her head. “I’m sorry, Riona. Papa’s late, but we can still go! The restaurants are still open. Will you forgive Papa this time?” He extended his hand toward her, his smile hopeful, his eyes pleading. The girl finally turned her head, her pout giving way to the smallest of smiles. “Okay… but if Papa does this again, Riona will never forgive him.” “Deal.” Her father grinned in relief, sealing her words with all the sincerity he could muster. . . . . . . “Are you okay, kid?” a police officer asked, his voice low but urgent as he crouched beside the little girl. His hand hovered uncertainly above her shoulder, not sure if she wanted comfort or just space to cry. The girl’s body shook violently. “Papa… Mama…” was all she could whisper, her small face buried in her trembling hands. The officer exchanged a grim look with his colleague. “Sir, it looks like an accident. The parents didn’t survive, but the girl sitting in the back was spared,” another officer reported quietly, his eyes softening as they landed on the child. The first officer’s jaw tightened. “Oh, I see.” He turned back to the girl, who was sobbing so hard her words barely came out. “Do you remember what happened, or where you were going?” he asked gently. The girl hiccupped, her breaths uneven. “I… I was with my parents. We were going home after dinner at the big restaurant… but suddenly…” Her voice trailed off into fresh sobs. ⸻ 30 Minutes Earlier “The food was so good there!” Riona exclaimed, her cheeks glowing with excitement. She bounced slightly in her seat, her small hands gripping the strap of her seatbelt. Her father chuckled, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Really? Papa’s happy to hear that.” Beside him, her mother sat gracefully, a soft smile lingering on her lips as she watched her daughter’s joy. “Can we go there often?” Riona asked eagerly, her eyes shining with childish innocence. Her father’s smile faltered just slightly, and even her mother’s expression dimmed. The car’s atmosphere grew heavier. “You know, sweetie,” her father sighed, his eyes focusing back on the road, “Papa doesn’t have enough money to take Riona to that kind of restaurant every time.” “Papa’s poor!” Riona huffed, puffing her cheeks out in exaggerated annoyance. Her mother turned in her seat, her hand resting on the back of the chair as she looked at her daughter. “Sweetie, don’t say that. Aren’t you happy that we went to such a nice place on your birthday?” The pout dissolved into a wide grin. “Yes! Riona is super happy!” Her mother opened her mouth to reply—but froze. Her eyes widened. Something was on the road. “Honey, watch out!” she screamed. “Oh sh—!” Her father’s curse was cut off as he yanked the steering wheel. The car veered violently. Tires screeched. Metal groaned. And then— CRASH The car slammed against a tree, the sound echoing into the night. ⸻ Back To Present The girl trembled, hugging herself as if trying to hold her tiny body together. “We… we were just driving home…” The officer nodded, his eyes patient, waiting for her to continue. Her small hand suddenly shot forward, pointing. Her tear-streaked face twisted in fury. “That boy… he came in front of our car. Because of him, my dad swerved, and… my parents are gone because of him!” Her wails pierced the air. The officer patted her head softly, whispering, “Oh, dear… he’s just a kid.” Across the room, another officer knelt in front of the boy she had pointed at. “I was running because I—” the boy began, but his words stumbled and faltered as another officer interrupted. “Sir, the boy’s parents have arrived.” The officer nodded, then looked back at the boy. “So, what were you saying?” The boy’s lips parted, but his eyes grew distant, lost in thought. “I went to meet my friend, but…” His words trailed off into silence. “But what, kid?” the officer pressed. The boy hesitated. “But he was… unconscious…” His voice broke off again. “What do you mean?” The officer frowned, confusion etched on his face. But the boy shook his head, his voice trembling. “I… I don’t know. When the car suddenly came in front of me, and then…” His words died in his throat. The officer’s gaze softened. “How old are you, kid?” “I’m 10,” the boy whispered, guilt shadowing his young eyes. . . . “Sir, the girl’s name is Riona Garcia,” another officer reported briskly. “Her parents both died in the accident. I looked into her family background—her parents were from Spain, but their families didn’t accept their relationship. They fled to the U.S. and have been living here for ten years. It seems unlikely that her grandparents will take her in.” The officer in charge sighed. “Oh, I see… Looks like we’ll have to send her to an orphanage.” But before he could give the order, another officer stepped forward. “Sir, the parents of that boy—Ethan Wells—want to adopt Riona. They feel responsible for the accident. And they also come from a wealthy family.” From where she sat, Riona overheard every word. Her little hands clenched into fists. She lowered her head, hot tears spilling onto her lap. Mama… Papa… I miss you so much. I can’t accept them as my new parents! “That’s great news. No need for the orphanage then,” the officer said with relief. He paused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “By the way, did that boy say anything about what he was doing there or who his friend was?” “We asked his father, but he didn’t know which friend his son was talking about. We investigated the area and discovered another incident happened nearby.” “What kind of incident?” “A man named Lucifer Hayes was killed by Officer Ryder Bennett in an act of defense. Hayes was trying to harm his brother’s son when Officer Bennett intervened.” The officer raised an eyebrow. “Do you think there’s a connection between that incident and this accident?” “Possibly, sir.” But Riona wasn’t listening anymore. Her teary eyes drifted toward the boy sitting quietly beside his parents. Ethan Wells. Her cheeks were wet, but her eyes burned with something darker than grief. Her small lips whispered words that would echo in her heart for years. Ethan Wells. I Hate You. “Okay then. Prepare the papers to give Riona Garcia’s custody to Mr. and Mrs. Wells.” ⸻ To Be Continued…