That evening, I slipped back into the house. No one had even noticed I’d been gone for hours. Typical.
They were all too busy laughing, eating, and chatting. I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I belonged in their little bubble of holiday cheer, so I sat silently at the dinner table, watching everyone else enjoy the evening. “Lucy, you’re so quiet!” my mom said, glancing over at me.
“I’m fine, Mom,” I said flatly, stabbing a green bean with my fork. “Well, cheer up,” my grandmother chimed in.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I almost met Frank Sinatra?”
“Almost?” my dad teased. “Every year, it gets closer. By next Christmas, you’ll be married to him.”
Everyone laughed except me.
Sofia grinned. “Oh, come on, Lucy. It’s Christmas Eve!
You used to love this.”
I locked eyes with her. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m about to make things very merry.”
Without waiting, I pushed my chair back and walked to the tree.
“Can’t we wait until dessert?” my dad asked, already reaching for the pie. “Nope.
This can’t wait,” I replied, placing the first box in front of Sofia. “For me?” Sofia’s voice wavered as she reached for the ribbon. “Go on, open it,” I said, my tone sugary sweet.
Everyone leaned forward as she opened the box. The baby cradle gleamed under the lights. Sofia froze.
“What… what is this?”
“Oh, you know,” I said lightly. “A little something I thought you might need soon.”
Her face turned pale. “I don’t… What are you talking about?”
“Lucy,” my mom interrupted.
