「 𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 」 - editing

2

Ayana sat by the frosted windowpane, her knees pulled to her chest and her breath creating soft patches of fog on the cold glass. Snowflakes drifted lazily outside, blanketing the world in an otherworldly stillness.

The room was dimly lit by a single lamp in the corner, casting a golden glow that reached just far enough to highlight the worn corners of the tiny room.

Ayana's Christmas list was abandoned on the table beside her, the once-bold "microscope" now smudged and faint, reflecting her uncertainty. She stared at it for a while before biting her lip, her mind tangled with emotions too big for her young heart to hold.

Across the room, Sarah folded laundry methodically, her back slightly hunched and her movements weary. Ayana had noticed the change in her mother over the past months. Once warm and full of stories, Sarah now spent her days caught in a web of exhaustion, as if every ounce of her energy went into keeping the family afloat.

"Mom?" Ayana's voice broke the silence.

Sarah stopped mid-fold, turning toward her daughter. "Yes, sweetheart?"

Ayana hesitated, picking at a loose thread on her sweater. "Can we... talk? About Christmas?"

Sarah's expression softened, though there was a shadow in her gaze. "Of course, Ayana." She walked over to the small couch and patted the spot beside her.

Ayana joined her, curling into her side. For a moment, she didn't speak, simply burying herself in the familiar comfort of her mother's arms.

"I don't think I want a microscope anymore," Ayana murmured finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah blinked in surprise. "You don't? But you've been talking about it for months. I thought it was the one thing you really wanted."

Ayana looked down at her hands, her fingers tightly intertwined. "It was. But... I think I want something else now."

"What is it, darling?" Sarah asked, brushing a strand of hair from Ayana's face.

Ayana took a deep breath, steeling herself. "I just want you. By my side. Always."

The words hung in the air, tender and heartbreaking in their simplicity. Sarah felt a lump rise in her throat as she tightened her embrace. "Oh, Ayana," she whispered, her voice trembling.

For the first time in weeks, Ayana looked her mother in the eyes, her own welling with tears. "I know it's been hard, Mom. I hear things. Grandma Eleanor... she doesn't like you. She... she told you to leave, didn't she? To go away."

Sarah stiffened, her grip on Ayana faltering for a split second before she recovered. "Where did you hear that?" she asked gently, though her voice had taken on a cautious edge.

"I heard her talking to Dad," Ayana admitted, guilt flashing in her expression. "She said you don't belong with us. That if you loved me and Dad, you'd leave."

Sarah closed her eyes, a wave of pain washing over her. It wasn't the first time Eleanor's venom had surfaced, but hearing it repeated by her daughter struck a nerve that ran too deep.

Ayana's voice cracked as she continued, "She's wrong, Mom. I don't care what she says. I don't want her gifts, or her fancy parties, or even that big Christmas dinner she always talks about. I just want you."

Sarah pulled her daughter into a fierce hug, holding on as if she could shield her from all the cruelty in the world. "Ayana, listen to me. None of what she said is your fault. It's not even mine. Sometimes, people... they can't see past their own anger. Your grandmother loves you in her own way, but she doesn't understand that we're a family. You, me, and your dad. And nothing-nothing-is going to change that."