The Girl that No-one See

Another Sunday Evening

Another Sunday evening settled over Hart Estate.

The last rays of sunlight stretched across the cliffs, turning the sea below into ribbons of gold. From the back bedroom on the second floor, Sienna Hart stood in front of her easel, completely absorbed in her latest painting.

Soft country music played quietly from an old radio on the bookshelf.

It reminded her of Texas.

Of endless fields, horses galloping through the dust, and evenings on her grandparents' ranch when her grandmother baked peach pie while her grandfather sat on the porch watching the cattle come home.

She smiled at the memory.

Her shell necklace rested against her chest as she leaned closer to the canvas.

This painting was special.

If everything went well, it would be her entry for the Windlong Hart County Young Artists Competition—a competition she had won for the last four years.

Carefully, she added a final stroke of white paint to the crashing waves.

"There..."

She stepped back.

"I think I have finished."

Satisfied, she placed her brushes into a jar of water.

Blue and green paint covered her fingertips, with tiny splashes across the sleeve of her cream jumper.

She didn't mind.

Paint could always be washed away.

Downstairs, the house was quieter than usual.

Pearl-May Hart was in London for a two-day business trip, attending meetings that would keep her away until Monday evening.

Alexander Andrew Hart sat alone in the library, surrounded by towering shelves of books. He hadn't moved for nearly an hour, completely engrossed in another cybersecurity journal.

In the family room, Willow relaxed on the sofa, the shopping channel playing softly while she browsed handbags online.

The peace lasted less than a minute.

"Dad!"

Jordan's voice echoed through the hallway before he burst into the library wearing a hat that was much too large for his head.

Alexander looked over the top of his book.

"Yes, Jordan?"

Jordan folded his arms with exaggerated seriousness.

"I've been thinking."

Alexander smiled faintly.

"That can be dangerous."

Jordan ignored the comment.

"I think we should have candy for dinner."

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

"Candy?"

"Yes."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's Sunday."

"I fail to see the connection."

Jordan grinned.

"If we eat candy first, we'll have more room for vegetables afterwards."

Alexander considered the idea for a moment as though it were a genuine scientific question.

"I believe that's the opposite of how dinner works."

Jordan sighed dramatically.

"It was worth asking."

"It usually is."

Jordan laughed before running towards the kitchen.

A few moments later his voice floated back through the house.

"Mrs. Carter! Can we have sweets for dinner?"

"No, Master Jordan."

"What about pudding first?"

"No."

"A tiny chocolate bar?"

"I said no."

Sienna smiled to herself.

Jordan never stopped trying.

She picked up a towel and cleaned clothes before walking into her bathroom.

After hours of painting, she was looking forward to a warm shower.

She turned the tap.

A blast of icy water hit her hand.

She jumped back.

"ah!"

She waited.

Surely it would warm up.

It didn't.

She tried again.

Still freezing.

"The boiler must have stopped working."

Wrapping her dressing gown around herself, Sienna walked downstairs and found her father in the library.

He looked up as she appeared in the doorway.

For a brief moment, he smiled.

"Hello, Sienna."

"Dad..."

"Yes?"

"There's no hot water. The shower's only running cold."

Alexander closed his book and frowned thoughtfully.

"The boiler has probably developed a fault."

Sienna nodded.

"I think so."

He reached for the telephone on the table beside him and slid it across the desk.

"You can call the maintenance company. Their number is next to the phone."

Sienna looked at it uncertainly.

"Me?"

"You're perfectly capable of explaining the problem."

"I've never called them before."

Alexander adjusted his glasses.

"Then today is as good a day as any to learn."

His voice was calm and matter-of-fact.

To him, it was a simple lesson in independence.

To Sienna, it felt like another reminder that she was expected to manage on her own. another responsibility that she need to manager

"Okay," she said quietly.

She picked up the phone and left the library.

Alexander had already returned to his book.

He never noticed the disappointed look on her face.Or that Jordan, standing quietly in the hallway, had watched the whole conversation.

Without saying a word, Jordan followed his sister.Sienna carried the telephone into the kitchen and dialled the number written beside it.

It rang three times.

Then someone answered.

"Roger! Maintenance ."

The man's voice was rough and impatient.

"Hello," Sienna said politely. "I'm calling from Hart Estate. Our hot water isn't working."

A loud sigh came down the line.

"Boiler model?"

Sienna glanced at the label Mrs. Carter pointed out to her and carefully read the numbers.

The man muttered something under his breath before tapping on a keyboard.

"Right... we've got the part on order."

"When will it be fixed?" Sienna asked.

"Not until tomorrow."

"So... there's no hot water tonight?"

"No."

He sounded as though he'd answered the same question a hundred times already.

"If you need a shower, make it quick and use the cold water."

Sienna hesitated.

"Isn't that likely to make someone ill?"

The man gave a short laugh.

"It'll wake you up more than anything. You'll survive."

Before she could ask another question, the line went dead.

Sienna slowly lowered the phone.

"Tomorrow," she murmured.

Mrs. Carter gave her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm afraid so, Miss Sienna."

"Thank you."

That evening, after a very quick and very cold shower, Sienna changed into her favourite oversized hoodie and curled up on the window seat in her bedroom.

The moonlight shimmered across the sea below the cliffs.

Her phone buzzed.

Grandma ❤️

flashed across the screen.

Sienna answered immediately.

"Hi, Grandma!"

Her grandmother smiled warmly from the other side of the screen, but Sienna noticed the worry in her eyes.

"Hello, my little seashell."

"Where's Gramps?"

A chuckle came from somewhere off camera.

"I'm here," her grandfather called.

The camera moved, revealing him sitting in his favourite armchair with one leg stretched out in front of him.

His foot was wrapped in a large white cast.

Sienna's eyes widened.

"Gramps! What happened?"

He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Old Duke decided he wasn't in the mood for company today."

"You fell off your horse?" Sienna asked.

"I did."

Her grandmother folded her arms.

"He insists it was the horse's fault."

"It was."

"It most certainly was not."

Sienna couldn't help laughing.

Then she noticed her grandmother's smile fade.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

"We've got some disappointing news."

Sienna's smile slowly disappeared.

"What is it?"

Her grandmother reached for her grandfather's hand.

"With your gramps' broken foot, we won't be able to fly over for your art competition this weekend."

For a moment, the room felt very quiet.

Sienna looked down at the shell necklace around her neck.

"I understand," she said softly.

Her grandfather looked heartbroken.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world if I could."

"I know."

"We'll be cheering for you from Texas," her grandmother said gently. "And when your painting wins, you'll tell us every single detail."

Sienna smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I promise."

After they said goodnight, she sat by the window for a long time, listening to the waves below.

One by one, the people she loved seemed unable to be there.

She looked at the finished painting on her easel.

For the first time...

It felt a little lonelier than before.Sienna gently ended the video call and placed her phone on the windowsill.

She stared out across the moonlit sea, her fingers absent-mindedly holding the shell necklace around her neck.

Her grandparents wouldn't be there.

Gramps had broken his foot after falling from his horse, and travelling from Texas was impossible.

It wasn't anyone's fault.

Tears in her eyes.

A quiet knock came at her bedroom door.

Before she could answer, Willow stepped inside.

"I heard Grandma and Gramps can't make your competition."

Sienna nodded.

"They're really disappointed."

Willow glanced at the painting on the easel.

"So... no one from Texas will be there."

"No."

"But Mum and Dad said they'd come,"

Sienna replied, a small smile appearing on her face. "Mum promised she'd be back from London in time, and Dad said he'd clear his schedule."

Willow raised an eyebrow.

"They said that?"

Sienna nodded.

"They promised."

Willow gave a small laugh.

"You actually believe they'll both turn up?"

Sienna's smile slowly faded.

"Why wouldn't they?"

Willow leaned against the doorframe.

"Mum's a CEO. Dad forgets what day it is when he's reading. They mean well, Sienna... but work always comes first."

She looked at the painting once more.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

"I hope you're wrong," Sienna said quietly.

Willow shrugged.

"I hope I am too."

She turned and left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

Sienna looked back at her painting.

She wanted to believe her parents would be there. They had promised.

And promises were meant to be kept.

Weren't they?

A few seconds later, there was another gentle knock on Sienna's bedroom door.

"It's open," she called softly.

The door creaked open, and Jordan poked his head around the frame.

He looked unusually serious.

"Can I come in?"

Sienna smiled.

"You never have to ask."

Jordan climbed onto the window seat beside her, pulling his knees up to his chest.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The only sound was the distant crash of the waves below the cliffs.

Finally, Jordan broke the silence.

"Sienna..."

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He looked down at his hands.

"Why is Dad always so... harsh on you?"

Sienna blinked.

"What do you mean?"

Jordan frowned.

"When I ask him for something, he smiles."

"When Willow asks him for something, he smiles too."

"But when you ask him..." He hesitated, searching for the right words. "He talks like you're one of the people he works with."

Sienna gave a small, sad smile.

"Dad doesn't mean to."

"Then why does he do it?"

"I don't know."

Jordan wasn't convinced.

"Today, you only asked about the hot water."

Sienna nodded.

"He could have called the maintenance people himself."

"He wanted me to learn."

Jordan folded his arms.

"But you've never phoned them before."

"No."

"So why didn't he help you?"

Sienna looked out towards the dark sea.

"Maybe he thinks I'm stronger than I realise."

Jordan shook his head.

"I think he forgets you're still his daughter."

The words caught Sienna by surprise.

She turned to look at him.

"Where did you hear something like that?"

"I didn't."

Jordan shrugged.

"I just watch."

He reached over and took one of Sienna's paint-covered hands.

"I don't like it when people make you sad."

A tear threatened to form in Sienna's eye, but she blinked it away.

"I'm alright."

"No, you're not."

She laughed quietly.

"You're very observant for a ten-year-old."

Jordan grinned.

"I'm smarter than people think."

"I know you are."

He rested his head gently against her shoulder.

"When I grow up," he said, "I'm going to come to every single one of your art competitions."

Sienna smiled, this time for real.

"Every one?"

"Every one."

"Even if they're on the other side of the world?"

Jordan nodded confidently.

"I'll bring candy too."

Sienna laughed, the sound filling the room.

"I thought you wanted candy for dinner."

"I do."

"But I'll save some for you."

For the first time that evening, the disappointment about her grandparents not coming didn't feel quite so heavy. Sometimes, all it took was one person to remind her that she wasn't invisible after all. Jordan looked up at his sister, still frowning.

"I don't like the way Dad talks to you."

Sienna offered him a gentle smile.

"Don't worry about me."

"But—"

She shook her head.

"I'm sure Dad only wants the best for me."

Jordan stayed quiet.

"He wants me to be independent," Sienna continued softly. "Maybe that's why he asked me to call the maintenance company myself."

Jordan wasn't convinced.

"It still wasn't very nice."

Sienna looked towards the moonlit sea outside her window.

"I know."

She tried to smile again.

"He just has... a different way of showing he cares."

The words sounded convincing enough for Jordan.

They didn't sound convincing to her.Deep in the back of her mind...

Deep in her heart...

A small voice whispered something she tried very hard to ignore.

Maybe Dad is disappointed in me.

Alexander could spend hours talking with Willow.

History.

Politics.

Law.

They laughed together over complicated ideas that Sienna barely understood.

With Jordan, he became playful, smiling at his jokes and pretending to negotiate over sweets before dinner.

But with Sienna...

Conversations were short.

Practical.

Almost formal.

As though he never quite knew what to say to the daughter whose greatest passion was painting instead of debating or solving impossible problems.

Sienna wondered if he had ever looked at one of her paintings and truly understood it.

She hoped he had.

She just wasn't sure.

Jordan noticed her staring out at the sea.

"Sienna?"

She quickly blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes before turning back to him with a small smile.

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not."

She let out a quiet laugh.

"You really do notice everything."

Jordan smiled.

"I learned from watching Willow."

That made Sienna chuckle.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke.

Only the sound of the waves filled the room.

Then Sienna looked at her little brother.

"Jordan?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I have a cuddle?"

His eyes widened in surprise.

"You want a cuddle from me?"

She nodded.

"I think I do."

Without another word, Jordan climbed onto the window seat beside her and wrapped his arms around his sister.

Sienna hugged him tightly.

She rested her chin gently on the top of his head, closing her eyes as they listened to the steady rhythm of the ocean below the cliffs.

Jordan didn't ask any more questions.

He didn't need to.

Sometimes the best way to help someone wasn't with answers.

Sometimes...

It was simply being there.

For the first time that evening, Sienna allowed herself to believe that even if the rest of the world overlooked her...

Her little brother never would.