That evening, Lucy stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head, dressed comfortably in shorts and a top. Her phone suddenly began to ring on the bedside table.
Picking it up, she saw the caller ID: Aunt Madison.
She answered, instantly greeted by a familiar, warm voice. "How are you, Lucy?" Madison asked from her dining table.
"I'm good, Aunt. And you?"
"I'm fine, but I couldn't stop missing you. Did you finish the things you were working on?" Madison inquired.
Hearing her aunt's words instantly made Lucy long to return home. "Well... yes, there are only a few little things left," she admitted.
"I see. When are you coming back home?"
"Well, at the very end of this month."
"Okay, I'll be expecting you, baby girl. I'll cook a lot of your favorites when you get back," Madison said, clearly overjoyed.
"Thanks, Aunt."
"It's alright. Take care of yourself."
"Take care of yourself too, Aunt."
"I will. Bye, Aunt."
"Bye, Lucy. I love you," Madison said.
"I love you too, Aunt," Lucy replied before the call ended.
Excitement surged through her at the thought of returning home. Though she felt a twinge of sadness about telling Elsa she would be leaving a little early, the anticipation of going back home easily overshadowed it.
Meanwhile, Elsa was seated at their old dining table in the living room, quietly reading a magazine. When Lucy stepped out of her room, leaning against the counter, Elsa looked up, her attention instantly captured.
"My aunt called," Lucy began, her eyes bright and voice bubbling with an unmistakable happiness. "She really misses me and wants me to come home as soon as I can. I told her I'd be heading back at the end of the month—on a Saturday. Is that okay with you?"
Elsa's heart sank. A complicated mix of sadness and affection washed over her. For a fleeting moment, she felt entirely alone—wondering if Lucy had found her real family and no longer cared about staying with her. Yet, she was also genuinely happy that Lucy was loved.
Putting on a brave face, Elsa managed a cheerful tone. "It's fine."
"Okay, thanks, Elsa," Lucy said, turning toward the kitchen to grab a glass of water.
Sensing Elsa's underlying sadness, Lucy walked back over and wrapped her arms gently around Elsa's shoulders.
"It's going to be okay, Elsa," Lucy whispered.
Elsa offered a genuine smile and leaned into the hug. She couldn't help remembering that Elsa didn't have parents; they had been told back at the orphanage that their parents had passed away long ago—a deeply unfortunate reality.
Days later, an afternoon quiet settled over the living room. Elsa felt a rare sense of peace, glad to be done with her shift at the bookstore and finally spending quality time with Lucy without any job hanging over her head. Lucy emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl of fresh fruit and took a seat on the couch.
"Do you want some fruits?" Lucy asked, offering the bowl.
"No thanks," Elsa answered. Lucy nodded and began to munch on the fruit.
Elsa still felt a quiet ache in her chest. She quickly pushed the feeling aside, turning her attention back to the television show playing in the room. Side by side on the couch, eating fruit together, Elsa was simply glad they were sharing the moment.
A few days after that, Elsa and Lucy found themselves at a nearby playground, gently rocking back and forth on the swings. It was a pleasant day—neither too sunny nor too cloudy—making it the perfect weather to just hang out.
"It's been a while since I've been on one of these," Lucy remarked.
"Me too," Elsa agreed.
"I like the thrill of going fast, but not so fast that it makes me queasy," Lucy laughed, gripping the chains tightly.
"I understand. You definitely don't like the idea of falling off a swing," Elsa chuckled.
"Definitely." Lucy said.
A comfortable silence stretched for a moment before Lucy turned her head. "You know we're sisters, right?"
"Yes, but I never know if I'm the older or younger one," Elsa replied, looking over with a smile.
"Well, you act like a big sister, though I've always secretly wanted to be the youngest."
Elsa smiled wider. "I'm actually a month older than you."
"That's right," Lucy said, suddenly remembering. Elsa turned her gaze back ahead.
"It's kind of the same thing anyway, since we're the same age," Lucy reasoned. They were both twenty one years of age.
"True." Elsa gripped her swing's chains, pressing her feet into the ground to build a little momentum.
"I kind of miss high school," Lucy mused aloud. "Remember when Bianca tried to be so sassy and controlling?"
"She was obviously so pompous that everyone disliked her. Thank goodness I wasn't the only one who noticed," Elsa stated.
"Yes, she was a total spoilt brat."
"I'm just glad we never got dragged into her drama."
"Grateful for that," Lucy echoed.
Elsa went quiet, her thoughts suddenly drifting away from the playground and toward her recent fling with Jordin. Should she tell Lucy about it? She glanced sideways at Lucy, who was still focused on her swing.
Maybe not, she decided, a sudden wave of fear washing over her. She was terrified of Lucy telling someone else, or worse, judging her. Keeping her personal business to herself felt like the only safe option.
"Oh, by the way, Professor Sam asked about you," Lucy said, breaking the silence. "I told him we're doing good."
Professor Sam was a beloved teacher from their orphanage days.
"I see," Elsa murmured.
"We had a small chat at the diner. He bought me a drink, and we talked about the old days at the orphanage."
"That's nice."
"I'm really grateful I met nice people at the orphanage," Lucy reflected softly. "Not everyone gets to be that lucky."
Elsa understood completely. Growing up, children needed love, attention, and tender care—things not every orphan received, which was a harsh reality of the world.
That night, lying awake in bed, Elsa realized a heavy depression was creeping up on her, driven entirely by the looming reality of Lucy's departure. Compounding the weight in her chest was a sudden wave of guilt. Remembering what she had done with Jordin made her feel cheap. It felt despicable, and a tear slipped quietly down her cheek. The memory of the intimacy she had shared with Jordin made her feel like she had somehow ruined her own innocence, and the regret stung deeply.
Miles away, in the private gym of Silas's home, Silas was running at a steady pace on a treadmill. Dressed in athletic shorts and a singlet that hugged his muscular frame, he stayed locked in his own world.
Meanwhile, back in her apartment, Lucy was on the phone chatting happily with her aunt about her memories of the orphanage. At the very same moment, Elsa was at the bookstore, patiently guiding a customer toward the right shelf. Life moved forward concurrently, pulling each of them into their own distinct realities.