She Was Still Crying
901 Words
Elantra was still crying.
She had been crying for hours.
Her tiny body shook beneath the black cloth wrapped around her.
Nobody came.
Nobody comforted her.
Nobody sang to her.
The people who had stolen her simply watched.
“She won't stop.”
The young woman standing beside the cradle sounded frightened.
The old woman didn't look up.
“Let her cry.”
“But she's hungry.”
“I know.”
“Then give her milk.”
The old woman finally raised her eyes.
“There is no milk.”
The young woman stared at her.
“What?”
The old woman pointed toward the bowl on the table.
“Give her that.”
The woman looked inside.
Her face immediately changed.
“You can't be serious.”
“Feed her.”
“She is a newborn.”
“And she is not an ordinary child.”
Elantra screamed again.
The sound seemed to shake the chamber.
Then something strange happened.
The candles went out.
All of them.
The young woman froze.
“Did you do that?”
The old woman stood slowly.
“No.”
A cold wind passed through the room.
The baby's crying stopped.
Every person inside the chamber stared at the cradle.
Elantra's eyes were open.
She was looking directly into the darkness.
The young woman whispered,
“What is she looking at?”
The old woman didn't answer.
She walked toward the cradle.
“Give her the mixture.”
The young woman hesitated.
Then she picked up the bowl.
She didn't want to.
Every instinct inside her screamed that what she was doing was wrong.
But nobody disobeyed the High Matron.
She lifted the baby.
Elantra immediately began crying again.
“I'm sorry,” the woman whispered.
She brought the strange mixture to the baby's lips.
Elantra resisted.
Then swallowed.
Silence.
The woman looked at the High Matron.
The old woman was staring at the baby's eyes.
“What?”
The High Matron whispered:
“She tasted it.”
The candles suddenly returned.
One by one.
The young woman nearly dropped the bowl.
Elantra had stopped crying.
She was staring at the ceiling.
Then she smiled.
Just slightly.
The High Matron stepped backward.
For the first time that night...
she looked afraid.
Three hundred miles away, Elantra's mother was screaming.
“My daughter is missing!”
The police officer behind the desk rubbed his forehead.
“Ma'am, please sit down.”
“My baby was taken!”
“What's her name?”
“Elantra.”
“Date of birth?”
“Last night.”
“Hospital?”
She told him.
He typed.
Then stopped.
“That's strange.”
“What?”
“There is no record.”
“There has to be.”
He searched again.
Nothing.
The woman leaned across the desk.
“I gave birth there.”
The officer looked at her.
“According to this hospital's records, you weren't there.”
Her mouth fell open.
“No.”
He continued typing.
“There is also no marriage record under your name.”
She stared at him.
“My husband—”
“What is his name?”
She told him.
The officer searched.
Nothing.
“No.”
Her voice became a whisper.
“He was there.”
The officer looked uncomfortable.
“Ma'am, nobody by that name is connected to you.”
“He held my hand.”
Nothing.
“He saw our daughter being born.”
Nothing.
“I have a daughter.”
The officer slowly shook his head.
“You don't have a child.”
The woman's eyes filled with tears.
“I know what I saw.”
The officer looked toward his colleague.
His colleague quietly shook his head.
Then the mother noticed something.
A photograph was sitting on the officer's desk.
She grabbed it.
Her hands trembled.
It was a photograph of her.
But she wasn't holding a baby.
She was standing alone.
Smiling.
Her heart stopped.
“That isn't possible.”
She turned the photograph over.
There was a date written on the back.
Three years ago.
She stared at it.
“I took this yesterday.”
The officer frowned.
“Ma'am...”
“No.”
She backed away.
“Someone changed it.”
The officer stood.
“You need to calm down.”
“My baby was stolen!”
Her voice broke.
“Please.”
The officer's expression softened.
But before he could speak—
Knock.
Someone tapped on the station's glass door.
Everyone turned.
A woman stood outside.
Black coat.
Black gloves.
Dark hair.
She was staring directly at Elantra's mother.
The mother stopped breathing.
She knew that face.
She had seen her last night.
The woman smiled.
Then raised one finger to her lips.
Shhh.
The mother screamed.
“THAT'S HER!”
The police officer rushed toward the door.
But when he opened it...
Nobody was there.
Only an empty street.
The mother stood frozen.
Then she noticed something on the floor.
A small black object.
She picked it up.
A symbol had been carved into it.
Three curved lines.
A circle in the middle.
The same symbol from the night her daughter disappeared.
Her fingers began to shake.
And somewhere far away, beneath the earth, a newborn baby opened her eyes.
Elantra was no longer crying.
She was listening.
Because from somewhere inside the darkness...
someone was whispering her name.
“Elantra...”
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