Things change around the 11-year-old orphans from Grace Field as they approach their twelfth year of life.
✦ Will these four eldest children, who have placed so much faith in their sole guardian, Isabella, be able to betray that trust after learnin...
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Chapter Twenty-One | Reminiscing
[Clementine]
In the midst of a picturesque evening winter, where snow gently cascaded from the heavens, I found myself grappling with a peculiar identity. Referred to as [Ninelie], I had grown so accustomed to the name that it almost felt like a part of me—even if it wasn't. Even if the name belonged to someone else. Perhaps too accustomed, for whenever people called out to me, I remained unresponsive, earning whispers of mistaken deafness.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into months, and I continued to embrace the identity of Ninelie. However, this prolonged charade began to take a toll on my well-being. I fell seriously ill for the first time, enduring a relentless fever that forced me to remain confined to my bed for three agonizing days.
Finally recovering from my fever, I found myself in the midst of winter. The sight outside my window was breathtaking, with the snow gracefully falling, layer upon layer, creating a pristine white blanket that covered the landscape. But winter wasn't my cup of tea; it filled me with a sense of sadness as I observed the plants freezing and withering away under the icy grip of the season.
However, amidst this melancholy, 'A flower bloomed!' a glimmer of hope appeared. My gaze fixed on a solitary tulip outside the window. Its presence was a surprise, and it brought a flicker of excitement to my heart. The tulip stood amidst the snow, its white petals blending seamlessly with the wintry surroundings. Yet, upon closer inspection, I realized that the purity of the petals was an illusion, merely the snow masking its true color.
I disregarded the cold, leaving behind any warm clothing or accessories, and ventured outside to rescue the struggling tulip. Excitement filled me as I wondered what color lay concealed beneath the snow.
Crouching before the flower, I gingerly began removing the snow, unveiling the vibrant red petals of the tulip. It was truly a sight to behold, but my efforts didn't end there. The snow persisted, attempting to cover the flower again and again. Yet, I refused to give up, tirelessly clearing the snow away minute after minute.
Strange as it was, I found an inexplicable sense of contentment in this endeavor. Perhaps it was fueled by my unwavering determination, or maybe something deeper within me guided my actions.
A poignant thought crossed my mind: Could it be that, like this resilient tulip, if I were to die, I too might bloom again, just like the flowers in Spring?
