The Gift
Stephanie savoured the last of her margarita, the tangy lime a perfect counterpoint to the fiery Hawaiian sunset painting the sky.
It had only been months since she’d traded the grey drizzle of Yorkshire for this vibrant paradise, months since she’d shed her old skin and become someone new or so she hoped.
A sharp knock echoed from the front door, disrupting the tranquil rhythm of the waves. Frowning, Stephanie placed her glass on the small table and walked to the entrance. Nobody.
The lanai was empty, the tropical air still and undisturbed. Confusion creased her brow, until her gaze landed on it – a simple, elegant gift box sitting innocently on the welcome mat.
It was wrapped in a gold paper, tied with a shimmering red ribbon.
No card.
No indication of who it was from.
Her heart quickened its pace. Who would know she was here? She hadn’t told a soul, severing all ties back home.
This was her fresh start, her escape.
Hesitantly, she bent down and picked up the box. It was surprisingly light.
Back on the balcony, shielded from prying eyes, Stephanie carefully untied the ribbon, a faint scent of sweet floral wafted from within as she lifted the lid.
Nestled inside was a single, perfect white orchid, its delicate petals pristine against a bed of velvety black fabric.
Beneath the orchid lay a small, tarnished silver locket. An antique.
Stephanie’s breath hitched; the locket was exquisitely carved with intricate floral design she picked it up, her fingers tracing the cool metal.
A shiver snaked down her spine. Why this? Why now?
With trembling hands, she opened the locket; inside, a tiny, faded photograph, a young girl, no older than ten, with bright, mischievous eyes and a cascade of dark curls.
The girl named Milly wore a simple cotton dress and clutched a stuffed bear with a missing button eye.
Stephanie didn’t recognize her.
She knew she didn’t.
Her childhood, while not perfect, was documented in photo albums crammed with birthday parties, awkward school pictures, and family vacations, none of them featured a girl like this.
But something about the photograph, the girl’s unwavering gaze, sparked a flicker of unease, a half-formed memory struggling to surface. It was like trying to grasp smoke, the image just out of reach.
Who was this little girl? And what did she have to do with Stephanie’s carefully constructed new life?
She’d spent years building that life, brick by brick. Erasing the past, shedding the old skin. She had a respectable job as a retailor , a tastefully decorated apartment, . There was no room in that life for ghosts.
A jolt of anxiety shot through her. Had her father been hiding something? A secret kept locked away for decades. The thought was unsettling, a tremor beneath the foundations of everything she thought she knew.
She flipped the locket over. Engraved on the back in elegant script were two words: “Never Forget.” The words seemed to mock her, a challenge thrown down by the past she had tried so hard to escape.
Stephanie closed the locket, the click echoing in the room. The photo felt like a Pandora’s Box, threatening to unleash a torrent of unwanted truths. But she couldn’t just ignore it. The girl’s eyes, even faded and small, held a power she couldn’t deny.
Driven by a sudden impulse, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture of the photo. She zoomed in, trying to glean any detail that might unlock the mystery.
Panic began to rise, clawing at her throat. She needed to talk to someone, but who? Nobody knew her she had only been in a Hawaii for a few months she had not made many friends yet
She stared at the locket; at the smiling face of the little girl, she never knew.
She had to find out what happened to this little girl, and why her own family had buried her so deeply. She owed it to that little girl, to herself, to finally untangle the threads of the past, no matter how painful the journey might be.
This is why she felt compelled to escape to Hawaii, to find the girl who was her infact her sister, Milly.
The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, plunging the sky into a twilight gloom. The only light came from the flickering tiki torches that lined the apartment block grounds.
Stephanie was alone, the orchid’s fragrance suddenly cloying, the locket heavy in her hand.
Her escape, it seemed, had just become a mystery. And she had a feeling the answers might be buried deeper than she ever imagined.
Thank You for Reading
Deborah C. Langley
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