Chapter 10
1404 Words
Sharing, exchanging, cooperation, competition—these were lessons children learned under guidance during their formative years.
Matthew Dennish was six, and Summer wondered if it was even possible to teach him this part of social development. Could he truly understand the emotions and feelings that should arise from communicating with others?
Even while interacting with the Fox twins, Summer focused entirely on Matthew, giving him her full attention.
Fortunately, regardless of whether he understood, Matthew was an excellent mimic. He imitated Summer’s actions while interacting with the twins. Although he still wouldn’t speak unless necessary, he showed no aggression. The violent scenarios Summer had feared never happened. Instead, the Fox twins liked him. He was the first peer they had seen since moving to this new town, their new schoolmate, and such a beautiful child to boot.
Naturally, they accepted Matthew as a new friend. Summer spent an anxious week, but nothing went wrong. With the twins visiting Matthew every day, even Frank and the others didn’t dare bully him.
Another weekend arrived, and Mrs. Fox graciously invited Summer and Matthew to her home.
Lily and Noah cheerfully held Summer’s hands as they headed upstairs. Passing the balcony, a flock of white doves suddenly took flight outside.
Matthew immediately turned his head, keenly aware of the movement.
“Wow,” Summer murmured, watching the doves disappear into the blue sky.
“They’re my mom’s!” Lily said proudly. “Everyone says she takes great care of them. She even collects fallen feathers to make toys and decorations. I’ll show you, Summer!”
Summer smiled sincerely: “Thank you, that’s wonderful.”
Maybe she could even ask Mrs. Fox for some feathers to make a shuttlecock—free and easy.
Summer let Lily lead her hand but kept an eye on Matthew beside Noah.
Matthew seemed indifferent. He quietly stared at the clear sky. The doves had flown away, and it was impossible to tell what thoughts lay behind those sky-colored eyes.
For Summer, an adult in a child’s body, spending time with three six-year-olds was a bit childish. Still, she adapted quickly and found a way to pass the time without boredom—teaching them to draw.
Before crossing over, Summer had worked in art. Though she hadn’t taught children before, this counted as her expertise.
Today, it was the same.
Noah generously shared his precious watercolor pencils with everyone. Summer decided to teach them to draw doves.
She quickly sketched three doves, then handed them out for the children to color. Noah and Lily enthusiastically used their favorite colors, but Matthew held the pre-drawn outline and a purple pencil from Noah, yet hesitated.
“What’s wrong?” Summer asked. “Don’t like purple?”
Matthew raised his head.
Summer offered: “Try another color?”
No response. He fixed his gaze on her, and after a long pause, finally spoke: “They are white.”
Summer froze. Logical, yes—but didn’t kids usually love painting white sheets in all sorts of colors? That was how she had been, and how the twins were now.
“Doves can have other colors too.”
Summer encouraged: “There’s gray, even black. Let’s draw a gray dove together, okay?”
Matthew tilted his head, seeming to not quite understand.
Growing up in a foster home in the 1980s, he likely hadn’t seen other-colored doves.
After a moment of thought, he picked up a gray pencil.
With Summer’s help, a cartoon gray dove quickly took shape. Matthew was clever—even without prior exposure, he could reproduce the essence and shading. For a six-year-old, the result was impressive.
Meanwhile, Noah and Lily:
“Summer, I’m done!” Noah waved his paper. Lily pouted: “Noah’s cheating!” She hurried to finish.
Noah handed his paper, full of wild reds, blues, and greens, to Summer. The original dove shape was almost unrecognizable, but it radiated childhood imagination. Summer smiled, patting Noah’s head: “Very good, Noah!”
“I’m done too!” Lily said, holding up her paper. Surprisingly, her coloring resembled Noah’s almost exactly. Summer laughed: “You did really well too, Lily. I—”
Suddenly, Matthew moved.
Just as Summer’s hand reached toward Lily’s braid, he grabbed her wrist firmly.
Summer: !!
She was startled. Turning to meet Matthew’s calm, emotionless gaze, she realized: six-year-olds shouldn’t have such strength! He didn’t just block her; he gripped her wrist tightly. Even a small tug didn’t free her hand.
This… meant he didn’t want her touching anyone else’s hair.
Recalling his previous mimicking behavior, Summer wondered: Did Matthew believe this gesture belonged only to him and her?
But a nearly emotionless child wouldn’t view a simple interaction as a means of forming emotional bonds. Summer wasn’t self-delusional; five favor points weren’t enough for Matthew to develop dependence.
“I really like Lily’s artwork,” Summer said, maintaining a smile. “Let’s glue them to the wall together, okay?”
The twins didn’t mind Matthew’s “sudden move.”
Noah and Lily happily agreed: “Okay!”
The Saturday morning passed quickly with painting. Mrs. Fox appreciated Summer helping with the twins, giving her time to tidy and clean.
When Summer and Matthew were leaving, Mrs. Fox personally accompanied them to the door:
“What did I just say?”
Noah: “Got it!”
The elder twin stepped forward: “This is for Summer and Matthew.”
Lily added: “And mine too—it’s a thank-you for teaching us to draw and spending time with Matthew!”
Summer was pleasantly surprised, looking at Mrs. Fox’s kind eyes.
People can really inspire goodness—not just children, but adults too.
Noah’s gift: a paper folded battleship. Lily’s: dried flowers. Thoughtful, hand-made, and similar for both Matthew and Summer, likely to avoid comparison.
Summer breathed a quiet sigh of relief: she hadn’t feared a gift she couldn’t reciprocate.
“Thank you both, and thank you, Mrs. Fox.”
Matthew, beside her, only now diverted his gaze from Summer to the twins, politely accepting his gift: “Thank you.”
Exchanging gifts, receiving kindness—this should have been a happy moment.
Yet, on the way home, Summer kept replaying Matthew’s wrist-grip.
Did touching someone’s hair mean something special to him? This wasn’t the first time he had reacted to simple gestures—he had mimicked her touching his hair and even prevented her from touching Lily’s braid this time.
Even if he didn’t understand the emotional meaning, there must be a reason.
And simply blocking her action was a negative act.
Yet, oddly, Summer felt Matthew wasn’t displeased.
His behavior was consistent: quiet, calm, neither aggressive nor impatient. Compared to before, his ability to respond physically to the twins marked substantial progress.
What could have upset him?
Returning home, Mrs. Smith immediately sent Summer to help with chores. She worked all afternoon and only rested at night.
During this time, she vaguely overheard Frank and John muttering, “The little freak went to the neighbors again,” which worried her. Matthew wouldn’t go play on his own, so what had he done?
But Mrs. Smith kept her too busy to investigate.
Dinner passed, and Matthew appeared punctually, as if never gone. Mrs. Smith didn’t notice his brief absence. Afterward, she sent the children back to their rooms.
Only upon entering the attic did Summer suddenly realize Matthew had come by.
Her bedroom door had been half-closed, and she remembered locking it when leaving. But the lock hadn’t stopped Matthew. By the time he entered the secured basement, Summer had realized he was capable of bypassing it.
The old room was empty, just as she left it.
Summer stepped in, stopping at her bed—and froze.
On the white bedspread lay scattered objects, barely visible under the faint moonlight filtered through haze. At first glance, she saw near-black red, like burned marks searing her retina, and her heart leapt.
She hurried forward and saw the items clearly.
They were feathers.
White, delicate, spread across most of the bed. Yet the ends of many were stained with mottled blood.
Feathers? Summer paused, then remembered the white doves she had admired earlier and her whispered “so beautiful.”
Matthew Dennish had remarkable learning ability. He had observed and mimicked Summer, and he had seen her happiness in receiving the twins’ gifts.
—This was his gift to Summer.
- Writer
