That night, I couldn't sleep.
My stomach hurt, and I felt uncomfortable in the big bed. It was soft and warm, but somehow, that made it worse.
I missed my mommy.
Whenever I felt scared, I used to sing my mommy's song. It was the only song we ever sang together. When things were bad, she would hum it softly and tell me everything would be okay.
But now I couldn't sing it.
I could only hear it inside my head.
And it didn't feel the same.
I tried to call the nanny, but no one answered.
So I climbed out of bed and opened the huge door. It felt like a castle door, even though it was just the door to my room.
Everything in that house was too big for me.
I tried to use the elevator, but it didn't work.
So I took the stairs.
They were so long that my legs started shaking before I reached the bottom.
Halfway down, I heard a voice.
"What are you doing here?"
I froze.
The man standing in front of me looked frightening. His voice was deep and cold, like the villains in the movies my mommy sometimes watched.
My eyes filled with tears.
He frowned and started scolding me.
"Who allowed a child in this house?"
"Why is a kid wandering around in the middle of the night?"
I wanted to answer him.
But I couldn't speak.
Then my stomach growled loudly.
The sound echoed in the quiet hallway.
He looked down at me and sighed.
Maybe he noticed how small I was. Maybe he saw how tired I looked.
Without saying anything else, he picked me up and carried me to the kitchen.
He opened the refrigerator.
"What do you want to eat?" he asked.
I tried to explain that I couldn't talk. I touched my throat and shook my head.
He stared at me for a moment.
Then he muttered,
"So I'm talking to a wall now."
He sounded annoyed.
After a moment, he carried me back upstairs and pointed toward my room.
"Go back to bed," he said.
"We'll talk tomorrow."
Talk tomorrow?
But I couldn't talk.
What if he thought I was ignoring him?
What if he wanted to punish me?
What if he decided to send me away?
I was terrified.
I didn't sleep properly that night.
The next morning, the nanny came.
She bathed me and dressed me in clothes that belonged to her grandchild. They were too big, but they were clean and soft.
Then she looked at me seriously and said,
"The Lutherals want to see you."
My heart dropped.
When we went downstairs, I saw all of them sitting together.
Six men.
Mr. Joe was there too, but he looked nervous.
An older man sat in the middle. His hair was grey, and everyone seemed to respect him.
I thought he must be their father.
They started talking about me.
"How did you bring a child into this house?" one of them asked Joe.
"It was an accident," Joe said quickly.
"She was hit by my car. She can't speak. Her mother is still in the hospital."
Another man spoke coldly.
"This is kidnapping."
"It's not kidnapping," Joe replied. "I already told the police. They said we should keep her safe until we find her family."
The men continued arguing.
Their voices grew louder and louder.
I didn't understand everything they were saying.
But I knew one thing.
They were deciding what would happen to me.
Finally, the old man spoke.
"She can stay," he said calmly.
"For now."
The room went silent.
No one argued with him.
Joe was told to contact the police again so they could try to find my family.
Then, the oldest man kept staring at me.
King.
That was his name.
King Lutheral.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"There's something familiar about this girl," he said slowly.
"She reminds me of someone."
No one answered him.
But he didn't stop looking at me.
Later that day, Nanny Zima took me shopping.
"You can't keep wearing the same clothes," she said kindly.
"Anyone living in this house must look neat and proper."
So we went to the mall.
It was the first time I had ever been inside one.
I had only seen malls on television before.
But in real life, it felt enormous.
Lights everywhere.
Music is playing softly.
Clothes, toys, food, shoes, games.
So many things.
I was so excited that if I could speak, I would have screamed.
Instead, I opened my mouth and made a funny sound of air.
Nanny Zima laughed.
She took me into many different shops.
We tried dresses.
She bought me shoes.
More shoes than I had ever owned in my life.
While we were shopping, I bumped into another little girl.
We both reached for the same jacket.
I grabbed it first.
Her father walked over.
He took the jacket from my hands and gave it to his daughter without even looking at me.
I felt small.
Invisible.
He fixed his daughter's hair and smiled at her proudly.
For a moment, I wished he was my father.
Maybe if my dad were here, he would treat me like that.
But you can't miss something you never really had.
Nanny Zima returned and held my hand.
"Mary, don't worry," she said softly.
"We'll find you something better."
By the time we finished shopping, it was already dark.
I was so tired that I fell asleep in the car.
When we arrived home, the gate opened, and the maids rushed outside to help carry the shopping bags.
They led me to my room.
But when I opened the door, I realized something had changed.
The bed was bigger.
The curtains were new.
Even the smell was different.
It didn't feel like my room anymore.
It felt like I had stepped into someone else's life.
Everyone in the house treated me kindly.
They smiled at me.
They called me "little miss."
It felt strange.
I wondered if the Lutheral family already had children.
Then the front door opened.
Two women entered the house.
Everyone gathered around them immediately.
They looked important.
I realized they must be the boys' mother and the sister-in-law.
Suddenly, I remembered what the nanny had said earlier.
If the sister-in-law found out about me…
She might be angry.
So I hid quietly behind the door.
They started talking.
"Are you feeling okay?" someone asked.
"Yes," the woman replied softly. "The doctor said the miscarriage had complications. I just need time before trying again."
My chest tightened.
Then she said something that made my heart stop.
"I heard something strange from the hospital."
"They said they found someone in a coma."
Another voice laughed.
"Who? Regina?"
My chest tightened.
Regina was my mommy's name.
"That's impossible," someone said.
"Regina is dead."
Dead?
Another voice spoke.
"They said she was hit by a car two weeks ago. She's still unconscious."
My knees felt weak.
They were talking about my mommy.
Then the sister-in-law spoke coldly.
"After everything she did to our family, they're still trying to save her?"
"If it were me, I would let her rot."
Another voice replied,
"She deserves it. After what she did to Felicia."
My head was spinning.
My mother hurt someone?
"She put my sister in a coma first," the woman said bitterly.
"Now karma has caught up with her."
Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm.
"What are you doing here?" the maid snapped.
"You're not supposed to be listening."
She dragged me back to my room and shut the door.
I stood there alone.
My mind is full of questions.
How do they know my mother?
Who is Felicia?
Why do they hate my mom?
And why did they say my mommy was dead…
when I knew she was still alive?
Nothing made sense anymore.