The warm morning sun bathed St. Mary's Orphanage in a golden glow, softening its worn brick walls and giving the old building an almost magical charm. The yard was alive with the laughter of children playing, the sharp crack of a jump rope hitting the pavement, and the hum of a distant lawnmower from the neighboring property.
Liam sat under the sprawling oak tree at the edge of the yard, its thick branches creating a canopy of dancing shadows. His knees were drawn to his chest as he leaned against the rough bark, a soft breeze ruffling his dark brown hair. This was his favorite spot, a place where he could daydream without interruption.
"Found you!"
Emily's voice broke through his thoughts, and he glanced up to see her bounding across the grass. Her auburn curls bounced with every step, and she wore that familiar mischievous grin that meant she was up to something.
"You're always here," she said, plopping down beside him and tossing him an apple. "What do you even think about all day?"
Liam caught the apple but didn't bite into it. "Stuff," he replied, shrugging.
"Wow, fascinating," she teased, pulling a small notebook out of her jacket. "Well, while you were busy thinking about 'stuff,' I did something cool."
He raised an eyebrow. "What now?"
Emily flipped open the notebook to reveal a page filled with a messy but intricate drawing. It was a rough map of the orphanage grounds, complete with hidden pathways and little notes in the margins.
"See this?" she said, pointing to a scribbled 'X' near the attic. "I'm telling you, there's something up there. I saw Miss Agnes take a box up last night, and she locked the door behind her. Who locks an attic?"
"Maybe she just doesn't want kids breaking their necks," Liam said dryly.
Emily rolled her eyes. "Or maybe she's hiding treasure. We should check it out."
"Why is it always 'we' with you?"
"Because you're the only one who doesn't chicken out," she said, nudging his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun!"
Liam shook his head, a reluctant smile creeping onto his face. Emily always had a knack for dragging him into her adventures, whether he wanted to or not.
The rest of the morning passed in a blur of noise and activity. After breakfast, Liam and Emily joined a game of soccer in the yard. Emily was quick on her feet, darting around the other kids with the ball, while Liam hung back, watching the chaos unfold. He wasn't much of a player, but he enjoyed seeing Emily's determined expression when she scored a goal.
"You're terrible at this," Emily joked, jogging over to him.
"Thanks for the pep talk," Liam said, laughing.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway caught their attention. Everyone paused, their eyes turning to the sleek black vehicle that parked near the entrance. Visitors weren't unusual at St. Mary's, but this car was different—polished and elegant, like it had rolled off the pages of a magazine.
The doors opened, and a man and a woman stepped out. The man was tall with sharp features and a confident air, his suit impeccably tailored. The woman had kind eyes and a warm smile, her hair pulled back into a neat bun. They stood together, scanning the yard as if searching for someone.
Miss Agnes appeared on the porch, her usual stern demeanor softening as she greeted the couple. The kids whispered among themselves, speculation buzzing like electricity.
"They're probably here for a donation or something," Emily said, crossing her arms.
"Maybe," Liam replied, though he couldn't shake the feeling that they were here for something more.
After lunch, Liam was summoned to the front parlor. He felt a strange mix of curiosity and nerves as he stepped into the room. The couple from earlier sat on the worn couch, their presence somehow making the shabby furniture look dignified.
"Liam," Miss Agnes said gently, "this is Mr. and Mrs. Hart. They'd like to speak with you."
Liam's gaze darted between the two strangers. "Me?"
Mrs. Hart leaned forward, her smile warm but knowing. "Hello, Liam. We've heard a lot about you."
Her voice was soft, yet her words carried an undeniable weight. Liam felt an odd sense of déjà vu, like he'd seen her face before but couldn't place where.
"Hi," he said cautiously, shifting on his feet.
Mr. Hart spoke next, his voice deep and commanding. "Liam, we believe you're special. And we've been looking for someone like you for a very long time."
Liam's stomach churned. Special. He hated that word. It always felt like an accusation more than a compliment.
But there was something in the way they looked at him, a mix of expectation and certainty, that made him feel… seen.
"Would you like to come with us?" Mrs. Hart asked, her tone gentle. "We'd like to give you a home."
Liam blinked, his mind racing. He glanced at Miss Agnes, who nodded encouragingly, then back at the Harts.
The idea of leaving St. Mary's should have felt like a dream come true. Instead, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, unsure if he'd fly or fall.