CHAPTER THREE
1376 Words
THE GIRL WHO SEES BEYOND
“Happy tenth birthday, sunshine.”
Storm blinked open her sleepy eyes to see her father standing beside her bed, smiling down at her. Chloe stood next to him, her face glowing with affection.
“Happy birthday, my darling sister,” Chloe said, brushing Storm’s hair back from her forehead.
Storm sat up slowly, still waking, but her eyes widened as she looked around the room. Balloons hung from the corners. A small cake with a single candle sat on the wooden table by the window.
Her lips parted. “When… when did you two do all this?”
“While you were asleep, Sweetpea,” her father answered warmly.
“Okay, up you go!” Chloe said, clapping her hands. “Blow out the candle and make a wish!”
Storm didn’t argue for once. She scampered down and made her way to the cake, closed her eyes, and blew out the flickering candle.
Cheers erupted from both father and sister.
Afterward, they presented her with small but thoughtful gifts, a set of coloring pencils from Chloe, and a storybook with a hand-carved wooden bookmark from their father.
“I love you, Papa. I love you, Sister Chloe,” Storm beamed. “You two are the bestest people in the whole world.”
It was just the three of them, but the joy in the room made it feel like a house full of celebration. Storm, their little chatty box, filled every corner with laughter.
Different dishes, some familiar, some specially made were spread across the table.
“Eat as much as you want,” her father said. “Today is your day.”
Storm paused, her smile fading slightly. “Papa, can I ask you something?”
“Of course, Sweetpea. Whatever questions you have, I’ll answer them. It’s your day, after all.”
Chloe looked up, sensing a shift in the air.
Storm lowered her gaze. “Ten years ago… were you happy that Mama risked her life to have me? Or… do you regret it?”
The question silenced the room. Even the wind outside seemed to stop.
Her father inhaled deeply. “No. Never. I don’t regret having you at all. If anything, I’m thankful to God for sending a beautiful, smart girl like you to us.”
He looked at her, his eyes misty. “Your mama didn’t risk her life for nothing. She had her reasons. When she was pregnant with you, she said something I’ll never forget: ‘I’ll give you a mini-me, a smart and bright girl who will take away your sorrow.’” He smiled faintly. “I didn’t understand what she meant… until she passed.”
“Papa… do I really look like Mama?” Storm asked gently.
“Yes, my princess. Your smile, your eyes, your voice, even the way you walk. You’re the very reflection of her.”
Storm’s eyes lit up. “This is the happiest day of my life!”
Before she could continue, Chloe interrupted. “Enough of the questions, miss birthday girl. Let’s eat before your cake gets jealous of the rice.”
Storm giggled. “Okay, okay. One last thing. I promise.”
She turned to Chloe, her expression soft. “Sister Chloe, do you know what I wished for when I blew my candle?”
“No,” Chloe said. “What?”
“I wished that we’d always be happy… and that you’ll give me a niece or nephew soon.”
Chloe nearly choked. “Ahh! Storm!”
Her father laughed. “She has to get married first.”
They all laughed together, the tension from earlier forgotten for a moment.
The next morning, Storm bounced into the kitchen.
“Good morning, Sister Chloe! Where’s Papa?”
“He went to the farm to check on the laborers,” Chloe replied. “You know this is harvest season. Your breakfast is on the table.”
Storm peered over Chloe’s shoulder. “I told you I’m now a big girl. I can do my own laundry.”
“Okay, big girl. Once you’re done eating, help me with the dishes, alright?”
“Deal!”
A little later, Mr. Donald returned from the farm.
“Welcome, Papa,” Chloe said, handing him a cloth to wipe his hands and face.
“Thank you, dear. Where’s my princess?”
“She’s having breakfast,” Chloe replied. “Yours is on the table too.”
“I’ll join you both soon.”
When Mr. Donald entered the dining area, Storm ran up to him.
“Good morning, Papa!”
“Good morning, Princess. I came to check on you earlier, but you were still asleep.”
“Sister Chloe said you went to the farm. Next time I want to come with you!”
He chuckled. “Only if you’ll be awake when I leave. That’s the challenge.”
She folded her arms dramatically.
He reached into his bag. “I brought you something.”
“Mangoes!” she shrieked. “Yay! Thank you, Papa! You’re the best!”
After breakfast, Storm helped with the dishes, then disappeared into her room. She pulled out her drawing book, a secret she’d been keeping for years. Inside were detailed sketches of their mother, some drawn from old photos, others from her imagination.
“I’m so good at this…” she murmured to herself. “I don’t know if I should become an artist or a doctor.”
Her eyes softened.
“But I want to be a doctor… so people like Mama won’t die anymore.”
She was lost in her thoughts when Chloe’s voice called from the hallway.
Storm scrambled to hide the sketchbook, but it was too late.
“Wait. What’s this?” Chloe asked, walking in. She froze when she saw the drawings. “Where did you get these?”
Storm’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry, Sister…”
“Sorry? What for? Where did you get them? Who gave you these?” Chloe’s voice tightened.
Storm hugged the sketchbook to her chest. “Promise me you won’t tell Papa… and you won’t be mad at me.”
“Storm, you’re scaring me.”
“Promise,” she repeated.
Chloe sighed. “Alright. I promise I won’t be mad. But I can’t promise I won’t tell Papa, remember, we’re your best friends.”
A long silence passed before Storm’s voice came, barely a whisper. “I drew them.”
Chloe blinked. “You… did what?”
“I drew them,” Storm said again, her hands shaking slightly.
Chloe picked up one of the drawings. Her eyes darted across the paper, fine lines, perfect shading, deep emotion captured in every stroke.
“Are you sure… you’re telling the truth?” Chloe asked.
“Yes, Sister.”
She flipped to a particular drawing. “And this one? We don’t even have this photo. Where did it come from?”
Storm looked up. “I imgined it .”
A chill rippled down Chloe’s spine.
“Ima what?…” she whispered. “These are beautiful.”
“Really” asked Storm
“Really. So when did you start drawing all these that i’m not aware of?” asked Chloe
Storm wiped her tears. “I started drawing when I was eight.”
Chloe was in shock “ eight?”
“ Okay now I’m angry with you,” Chloe said suddenly.
Storm’s eyes widened. “Please don’t be!”
“I’m only mad because you hid this from me.” Chloe crossed her arms. “You’ll have to draw me too.”
Storm grinned. “Really?”
“Of course.”
She began to sketch, her hands moving quickly. In less than three minutes, a perfect sketch of Chloe stared back at her.
Chloe’s mouth dropped open.
“How… how did you do that so fast?”
Storm smiled, shy and proud all at once.
Chloe hugged her tightly. “I’m proud of you, baby girl. You’re extraordinary.”
And as she looked over the drawings again, a strange thought passed through her mind, a quiet voice, like a breeze through the trees.
“She didn’t just inherit Mama’s smile… she inherited something more.”
- Writer
