Abandoned

47

A month changed everything in small, almost invisible ways.

The house no longer felt new to Sienna. It felt known.

She knew which floorboard creaked near the kitchen. She knew that the garden gate made a soft clink when the wind caught it. She knew where Zareya kept the good snacks and which cupboard held the cups she wasn't supposed to touch, but did anyway, just to see what would happen.

Most importantly, she knew this place held her.

She moved through it now with confidence, bare feet padding down hallways, hands brushing walls only out of habit rather than fear. Her toys no longer stayed where Zareya carefully placed them. They migrated. Blocks under the couch. Books stacked in the hallway. Her elephant appeared everywhere, sometimes tucked into unlikely places like the laundry basket or the shoe rack, as if Sienna wanted to make sure he experienced the whole house too.

And her voice, quiet but growing, had begun to emerge.

Not sentences. Not conversations. But single words, offered deliberately, proudly.

"Milk."
"Outside."
"Mama."
"No."
"Mine."

Zareya treasured every one.

She never rushed them. Never corrected. She simply mirrored, expanded gently, letting language settle into Sienna's body at its own pace.

This morning, Sienna was already awake when Zareya came into the living room.

Suspicious.

She stood near the couch, hands behind her back, eyes bright with contained excitement. Her elephant sat on the floor beside her, placed too neatly, like he was in on something.

Zareya narrowed her eyes playfully. "What are you up to?"

Sienna grinned. A full, mischievous grin that had only appeared in the last two weeks. She rocked slightly on her heels.

"Nuh-thing," she said, drawing out the word with exaggerated innocence.

Zareya laughed. "Uh huh. That sounds convincing."

Sienna giggled and darted past her, toddling quickly down the hallway and disappearing into her bedroom. A moment later she reappeared, holding something behind her back again.

Zareya shook her head fondly. She's too comfortable now, she thought. We're doomed.

The doorbell rang.

Sienna froze.

Her eyes widened, not in fear, but recognition.

"Door," she whispered.

"Yes," Zareya said. "And who's coming?"

Sienna's grin returned, sharper this time. She leaned close and stage-whispered, "Him."

"Him?" Zareya raised a brow.

"Doctor," Sienna clarified, nodding solemnly. Then, with a conspiratorial glance toward the door, she pointed to her own mouth and whispered, "Shh."

Zareya blinked.

"Oh," she said slowly. "You're plotting."

Sienna giggled and scampered off again, this time toward the living room. Zareya followed quietly, curiosity piqued.

When she rounded the corner, she found Sienna crouched behind the couch, elephant tucked under one arm, her other hand gripping the edge of the cushion. She pressed a finger to her lips.

"Hide," she whispered.

Zareya bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Hide from who?"

Sienna looked at her like it was obvious. "Doctor."

The doorbell rang again.

Zareya went to answer it, carefully keeping her face neutral.

Dr. Harrison stood on the porch, hands in his coat pockets, smiling warmly. "Good morning."

"Come in," Zareya said. "She's, around."

He chuckled. "That sounds ominous."

The moment he stepped inside, the house fell very quiet.

Too quiet.

Dr. Harrison looked around. "Sienna?"

Nothing.

Zareya shrugged lightly. "She was just here."

Dr. Harrison stepped further in, glancing toward the hallway, then the living room. "Sienna," he called gently. "It's Dr. Harrison."

A soft sound came from behind the couch.

A stifled giggle.

Dr. Harrison paused.

Zareya pressed her lips together.

Slowly, deliberately, Dr. Harrison walked toward the couch. "I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "if there's a very clever little girl hiding somewhere."

Silence.

Then,
"Boo!"

Sienna popped up suddenly, arms thrown wide, elephant flying out of her grip and landing with a soft thud. Her face was pure triumph.

Dr. Harrison jumped back theatrically. "Oh! You got me!"

Sienna shrieked with laughter, clapping her hands wildly. "Got you! Got you!"

Zareya stared.

"She, she said a sentence," she breathed.

Dr. Harrison's eyes softened instantly. "She did."

Sienna puffed up with pride, toddling closer. She pointed at him. "Doctor scared."

"Yes," he agreed solemnly. "Doctor very scared."

She beamed.

Then, because she couldn't resist pushing it further, she bent down, scooped up her elephant, and held him out toward Dr. Harrison.

"Scare him too," she instructed.

Dr. Harrison knelt, meeting her at eye level. "I think I'll be ready next time," he said gently.

Sienna tilted her head, considering this. Then she leaned forward and whispered, loudly, "Hide better."

Zareya laughed openly now, emotion bubbling up in her chest.

A month ago, Sienna barely tolerated new people in her space. Now she was planning ambushes.

Dr. Harrison straightened, turning to Zareya. "She's doing incredibly well."

Zareya nodded, throat tight. "She's, happy."

Sienna wandered back toward the couch, climbing onto it with practiced ease. She patted the cushion beside her and looked at Dr. Harrison expectantly.

"Sit," she commanded.

He obeyed immediately.

Sienna leaned back against the cushions, elephant tucked under her arm, satisfied. She glanced between the two adults, then announced, "Home."

Zareya felt tears sting her eyes.

"Yes," she said softly. "You are."

Sienna smiled, small, sure, and utterly content, and for the first time, her mischief didn't feel like testing or survival.

It felt like joy.

And that, Dr. Harrison knew as he watched her curl comfortably into her space, was the clearest sign of healing there was.