A New Beginning || Gilbert Blythe x Oc ||

Chapter 2

As Mr. Barry and the rest of the family put their hands together in a gesture of unity, Lydia's confusion bubbled to the surface. She watched with furrowed brows, unsure of the meaning behind this solemn ritual. Sensing her uncertainty, Diana leaned in close, her voice a gentle whisper in Lydia's ear.

"Put your hands together and pray," Diana murmured, her words a soft reassurance amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces.

"Oh, sorry," Lydia responded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she quickly followed Diana's instructions, clasping her hands together in silent reverence.

With her eyes closed and her heart open, Lydia bowed her head in earnest prayer, her thoughts a jumble of uncertainty and hope. She didn't know the words or the customs, but she trusted in Diana's guidance, allowing herself to be swept along by the tide of tradition.

As the prayers of gratitude and blessing filled the air, Lydia dared to peek open one eye, her gaze sweeping across the faces of her new family.

-+-

As the evening wore on, the dining room was filled with laughter and the clinking of silverware as the Barry family enjoyed their meal together. Once dinner had come to a close, Mr. Barry turned to the girls with a warm smile.

"Why don't you three head upstairs and get to know each other a bit better?" he suggested kindly.

With eager nods, Diana, Lydia, and Minnie May rose from the table and made their way up the grand staircase to Lydia's room. Once inside, the air was filled with the excited chatter of new friends getting acquainted.

Diana perched herself on the edge of Lydia's bed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "I'm so excited to show you around Avonlea and introduce you to all my friends," she gushed. "I just know they're going to adore you!"

Lydia smiled, her heart warmed by Diana's kindness. "I'm excited too," she confessed. "Back at the orphanage, I only had one friend."

Diana's brow furrowed in concern. "Really? What was it like at the orphanage?"

The orphanage, a chapter of her life she wished remained closed, was a place where kindness was as rare as sunlight in a cellar. There, the children roamed like lost spirits, their words sharp and cruel, and the adults, guardians by title but not by heart, offered little solace or warmth.

Lydia rarely spoke of those days, for each word seemed to revive memories she longed to forget—memories of cold, lonely nights and the sting of unkind words, of longing for a family and a home that seemed more like a dream than a possibility. In the company of Anne, those harsh realities had been bearable; their friendship was a beacon in the gloom, a shared defiance against a world that had forgotten them.

But now, nestled in the warmth of the Barry home, with Diana's inquisitive gaze upon her, Lydia finds herself on the precipice of the past and the future. The mention of the orphanage drew a veil of silence around her heart, a protective barrier against the pain of remembrance.

"-Hello? Lydia?" Diana's voice, laced with concern, gently prodded Lydia from her reverie, a reminder of the present, of the safety and acceptance she had found in Avonlea.

"Are you okay?" Diana asked, her voice soft, a testament to the kindness Lydia had yearned for in her darkest moments.

"Oh, I'm fine," Lydia replied, her voice a whisper against the weight of her memories. "It's just... it wasn't a good place for me." The words, though spoken, barely scratched the surface of her experiences, of the resilience born from nights spent dreaming of a better life.