CHAPTER 54: THAT WOMAN, AGAIN

Emma first noticed her from the window.

That same woman she had met once before. The one with kind eyes and a calm voice. She stood quietly under a tree, just beyond the school fence. Not doing anything, just waiting and watching.

It was the same spot as last time.

When the final bell rang, and students began spilling into the hallway, laughing and dragging backpacks behind them, Emma hesitated momentarily, then walked outside.

It was late afternoon, and a gentle breeze was blowing through the trees. The woman saw her approaching and raised her hand, offering a friendly wave.

Emma gave a shy smile and slowly walked toward her. "Hi," she said.

"Hi," the woman replied, with a warm tone. "It’s good to see you again."

Emma stood there for a second, then said quietly, "I... I want to say I’m sorry. About last time. The way I walked away wasn’t nice. I didn’t mean to be rude."

The woman shook her head gently. "No, no. Please, don’t apologize. I understood. I knew what was going on. It’s okay."

Emma looked at her and nodded, grateful.

"Care to take a walk?" the woman asked after a short silence.

Emma hesitated, then said, "Okay."

As they turned and began walking along the quiet path near the school’s fence, the woman reached into her bag and brought out a small pack of ice cream.

"For you," she said, handing it over with a smile.

Emma blinked and looked at her. "Um..."

"Don’t worry," the woman said quickly, almost reading her mind. "It’s made with natural ingredients. No dairy or artificial stuff. It won’t mess with your asthma."

Emma smiled back, genuinely this time, and took the ice cream. "Thank you," she said. "That’s really thoughtful."

They walked side by side, quietly for a while, listening to the sound of birds in the trees and the crunch of small stones under their shoes. Then the woman broke the silence. "So... have you been treated recently? For your asthma, I mean?"

Emma shrugged. "Not really. I have my inhaler, and it’s been helping. I’m good actually."

The woman glanced at her. "When was the last time you saw a doctor?"

Emma’s smile faded a little. She looked ahead, pretending to focus on a bird flying above them.

"It’s just me and my brother," she said slowly. "We don’t go to the hospital often. He’s been trying his best, you know? I don’t want to stress him with hospital bills. Especially not now."

"Why now?"

"He’s working on something big. A project. And he’s been under pressure a lot lately. I just... don’t want to be a burden."

The woman nodded gently, her voice softening. "You’re not a burden, Emma."

Emma didn’t answer that. She just kept walking.

The woman continued, "Your brother... what’s he like? Tell me about him."

But before Emma could even think of a reply, she stopped walking and turned slightly.

"Wait," she said, squinting. "I just realized... I don’t even know your name."

The woman blinked, caught off guard. Then she chuckled.

"Oh! That’s true. I should’ve said that earlier." She held out her hand, as if introducing herself for the first time.

"I’m Sandra."

Emma smiled and shook her hand. "Nice to officially meet you, Sandra."

Sandra laughed softly. "Nice to meet you too."

"You said you’re a lawyer, right?"

"Yes. I moved here recently. Transferred not long ago."

Emma raised her brows. "Permanently?"

Sandra tilted her head. "That depends."

"On what?"

"On how the environment treats me," she said with a small smile.

"So, as I was asking,", she continued, "how’s your brother? What’s he like? Tell me about him."

"He’s... amazing," she said softly. "He’s the best brother anyone could ask for. Really caring. Always looking out for me, even when he’s tired. He acts like both my mom and dad. It’s like... he’s carrying the whole world on his shoulders just to make sure I’m okay."

Sandra’s expression softened.

"What happened to your parents?" she asked quietly, carefully.

Emma looked down at the path they were walking, "My mom died when I was still little," she said. "That’s what I was told, anyway. Then, a few months ago, my dad passed away too."

"Oh Emma," Sandra said, her voice breaking slightly. "I’m really sorry."

Emma gave a small shrug, "It’s just been me and my brother since then. We’re taking it one step at a time. That’s all we can do. He’s really trying his best, though. Always putting me first."

Sandra nodded, and then she said softly, "That’s nice. It’s beautiful, really, how close you both are."

Emma looked up at her. "What about you? You’ve been asking all the questions. What’s your story?"

Sandra stopped walking. Her hand tightened slightly around her bag strap. Her eyes flickered, like they were searching through memories she’d locked away for years.

"Well..." she began. "I told you before, didn’t I? That I lost my daughter."

Emma nodded slowly.

"She would’ve been around your age now," Sandra continued, her voice becoming quieter. "It happened when she was just three. We were in the market. It was crowded and noisy. I was holding her hand so tightly... or at least I thought I was. Then, just like that, my hand slipped. She disappeared into the crowd. One second she was there, and the next..."

Sandra stopped talking. Her eyes glistened, and she blinked quickly.

"I searched for hours. Days. Weeks. But I never found her. No trace at all. And not long after that, her dad left me too."

Emma stood still, her own heart aching now. "That’s... that’s terrible," she whispered. "I’m so sorry."

Sandra smiled faintly. "Life moves on. Somehow. I kept pushing. I became a lawyer. I started helping people. It became the only thing that made sense. But at the end of the day, I still go home to an empty house."

There was a long pause.

Emma looked at her carefully now, something shifting inside her. There was a deep sadness in Sandra’s voice, the kind that wasn’t loud but lived permanently in her eyes.

Just then, something unexpected broke the heaviness in the air.

A small yelp, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground... They both turned.

An old woman had tripped just a few feet ahead. Her walking stick had slipped from her hand, and she stumbled, barely managing to stay on her feet.

"Oh my God," Emma gasped, rushing over without hesitation. She reached the woman, picked up the stick, and gently handed it back. "Are you okay, ma’am?"

"Yes, thank you, my child," the old woman said, catching her breath. "I’m fine. Just this silly leg of mine."

As she took the stick and steadied herself, her eyes drifted to Sandra, who had also stepped closer with concern on her face.

The woman looked between Emma and Sandra. Her face lit up with a warm smile.

"You two," she said, "what a beautiful pair. You’ve raised such a sweet and caring daughter."

Emma blinked, surprised. "Oh, no, no. She’s not my mother."

The old woman paused, frowning slightly. Then she looked at Sandra more closely, then back at Emma.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice full of genuine disbelief. "Because the resemblance is striking. Honestly, I wouldn’t believe otherwise."

Emma’s mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

She turned to Sandra slowly. Something didn’t feel right. Something she couldn’t name.

Sandra gave a nervous laugh, her face suddenly unreadable.

"That’s funny," she said lightly, waving it off. "People say strange things sometimes, don’t they?"

But Emma didn’t laugh. She kept looking at Sandra. Deep into her eyes.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure who exactly was standing beside her.