Fell For You

Introducing Kristina

Mum and Dad leave early to pick up Kristina while Melissa and I tackle her room and bake a welcome treat. We settle on blueberry pie—safe, simple, sweet.

First, we overhaul Sarah's old room. With her permission (and her cheerful Harvard-girl blessing), we turn it into something more "teen." I'm not sure if Kristina's a girly girl, a tomboy, or somewhere in between, so we mix everything: soft pink curtains, a navy throw blanket, fairy lights, and a wooden desk by the window. By ten o'clock, we're standing in the doorway, hands on hips, admiring our half-organized masterpiece.

After that, we trade paintbrushes for aprons and slip on our kitchen hats. The kitchen fills with laughter, flour dust, and the smell of butter. We place the pie in the oven and collapse on the couch to watch TV.

Melissa's curled up beside me, her legs draped over mine, eyes glued to Drama Queen. I roll my eyes as the lead actress threatens to jump off a balcony because her boyfriend forgot their anniversary.

"Are we seriously watching this?" I ask.

"Shh!" Melissa kicks my leg lightly. "Antonio's trying to explain himself."

I sigh and slide her legs off me. "Fine, I'm getting gummy bears and checking on the pie."

In the kitchen, the smell of baked blueberries and sugar wraps around me like a hug. I open the oven, inhale the warm sweetness, and grin. Perfect. I decorate the cupcakes we made earlier with smiley faces and a dusting of chocolate, then set the jug to boil for hot chocolate. Just in case the weather turns cold.

The front door clicks open.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Melissa's excited squeal echoes through the house.

I wipe my hands on a towel and walk to the entryway. Dad's laughing, holding her in his arms, her tiny arms looped around his neck.

"Where's Kristina?" she asks eagerly.

"In the car," Mom says, hanging up her coat.

"I'll go greet her," I offer. Dad smiles proudly; Mom gives me a look that says be nice.

Outside, the SUV hums softly in the driveway. When the door slides open, I freeze.

She's... stunning.

Tall—around 5'8—with jet-black hair that falls in perfect straight strands. Her skin's pale but glows faintly in the morning light. Deep hazel eyes flick up to meet mine, unreadable and calm.

"Hi," I say, forcing a smile. "I'm Melody. Welcome to the Black family."

I offer a handshake. She stares at it, then back at me, her gaze curious, almost guarded.

Right. Not a handshake person.

"Okay then," I mumble with an awkward laugh. "Come on in."

Inside, the house smells like pie and vanilla. Mom's holding a tray of cupcakes, Dad's got the blueberry pie, and Melissa beams with a cup of cocoa in both hands.

"Hi! I'm Melissa!" my sister chirps, wrapping her arms around Kristina's legs. Kristina stiffens, then gently pats her head—polite, cautious.

"The girls baked you cookies, cupcakes, and a pie," Mom says softly, her voice full of warmth.

Kristina's lips twitch upward in what looks like a half-smile. "Thanks," she murmurs. Her voice is soft, smooth—like silk running over glass.

"I'm tired," she adds quietly.

"Of course, dear. Melody, show her to her room," Mom says.

"Sure," I say, motioning toward the stairs. "Your room's right next to mine. If you need anything, just knock."