chapter 4
1047 Words
The ride home felt longer than usual.
No one spoke.
The laughter that had filled the market only an hour ago had vanished, replaced by a silence so heavy it hurt.
Aria sat by the window, clutching the envelope tightly against her chest. She kept reading the first line of the letter over and over again.
My dearest Aria...
She wanted to believe it was all a mistake. She wanted someone to tell her it was just a cruel joke. But deep inside... She knew it wasn't.
The moment they reached home, everyone walked inside quietly.
No one even bothered to switch on the television.
The little house that was always alive with laughter suddenly felt unfamiliar.
Victor took a deep breath and looked at his wife.
"I think... it's time."
Aria slowly lifted her head. "I don't want lies anymore." Her voice cracked.
"I don't want half the truth."
"I want everything." Victor nodded.
He spent the next hour telling them about the stormy night eighteen years ago... the desperate knock on the door... the frightened couple who begged them to protect their daughter... and the promise he had made to keep her safe until the day someone trustworthy came for her.
When he finished, tears streamed freely down everyone's face.
"I'm sorry," Victor whispered. "I never wanted to steal your past."
"You didn't," Aria replied as she walked over to him.
"You gave me a childhood." She threw her arms around him.
"You gave me a family."
Victor broke down completely.
"I've always been afraid this day would come." "I've always been afraid you'd hate us." Aria shook her head.
"I could never hate the people who taught me how to love."
Their mother wrapped all of them in a hug.
"My girls... "You will always be my girls."
Even if the world called Aria someone else's daughter Nothing could erase eighteen years of bedtime stories, scraped knees, birthday songs, and family dinners.
That evening, Victor cleared his throat. "No more crying." The girls looked at him in surprise. "It's still your eighteenth birthday."
"We're going to celebrate it." Mia sniffled. "With swollen eyes?"
Victor smiled.
"Then we'll be the happiest family with swollen eyes."
For the first time since leaving the market. They laughed. It wasn't a loud laugh.
But it was enough.
Their mother disappeared into the kitchen and returned carrying a tiny homemade cake It wasn't perfectly round.The frosting leaned to one side.
The words Happy 18th Birthday were written a little crooked.
"I know it's not beautiful," she said nervously.
Aria burst into tears again.
"It's the most beautiful cake I've ever seen." Victor lit three candles. "One for each of my daughters."
The room went dark except for the tiny dancing flames.
"Make a wish," he whispered.
The triplets closed their eyes Mia wished they would never be separated. Ava wished Aria would always find her way home. Aria wished she could freeze time forever.
"Blow!" Victor shouted.
The candles went out together. Everyone clapped. Their mother cut the cake into five uneven slices.
Victor frowned. "Where's mine?""You said adults don't like cake," Ava teased.
"I never said that."
"You were thinking it." Laughter echoed through the house once again.
After dinner, Mia suddenly remembered something.
"Wait!" She ran upstairs. A few moments later she returned carrying three small envelopes tied together with a faded pink ribbon.
"I almost forgot."
Aria frowned"What are those?" Mia smiled through her tears.
"When we were twelve, remember we wrote letters to our future eighteen-year-old selves?"
Ava gasped.
"You actually kept them?"
"I hide everything."
The sisters sat cross-legged on the living room floor. Victor and their mother watched from the sofa. One by one, they opened their letters.
Ava read first.
«Dear Future Me,
I hope you're still brave.
I hope you're still stubborn.
And I hope Aria and Mia are still annoying you every single day.»
Everyone laughed. Mia wiped her eyes before opening hers.
«Dear Future Me,
I hope you're still smiling.
If life ever gets hard, don't forget that home is wherever your sisters are.»
By the time she finished reading, she was crying too hard to continue.
Finally...
It was Aria's turn.Her hands trembled as she unfolded the paper.
«Dear Future Aria,
If you're reading this, we're finally eighteen.
I don't know what our future looks like.
But I hope Mom and Dad are healthy.
I hope Ava is still pretending to be the boss I hope Mia still sings loudly even though she can't sing. And I hope... no matter what happens...
The five of us will always stay together.»
Aria couldn't read another word. She buried her face in the letter and sobbed.
Mia crawled across the floor and hugged her. Then Ava joined.Soon all three sisters were crying in each other's arms.Victor quietly turned away, unable to hide his own tears.
Their mother whispered a prayer under her breath.
Late that night, the sisters returned to their bedroom.
No one wanted to sleep. Instead, they packed Aria's suitcase together. Every dress they folded came with a memory.
"Remember when you stole this hoodie?" Ava asked.
"I borrowed it," Aria corrected.
"You kept it for eight months."
"That's still borrowing."
Mia pulled out an old teddy bear missing one eye.
"You can't leave Mr. Buttons behind."
Aria laughed.
"I still have him?"
"You sleep with him whenever you're sick."
"I do not!
"You drool on him too," Ava added.
"I hate both of you."
"No," Mia whispered as fresh tears filled her eyes.
"You love us."
"I do," Aria replied. "More than you'll ever know."
The room fell silent again.
The three sisters sat on the floor, their matching silver bracelets glinting under the soft bedroom light.
Aria stretched out her hand. The other two placed theirs on top. "No matter what happens tomorrow..."
"We stay sisters," Aria whispered.
"We stay sisters," Ava repeated.
"We stay sisters," Mia echoed.
Outside, the moon shone brightly over the little house.
Inside...
Three girls spent the last hours of their eighteenth birthday holding on to each other, laughing through their tears, making promises they prayed distance would never break them, None of them wanted the night to end.
Because when morning came... One of them would have to say goodbye.
- Writer
