Chapter no 8
The First Crack in Destiny
Morning came softly, slipping into the old orphanage like a shy visitor. Thin rays of sunlight streamed through the cracked wooden windows, falling in soft golden stripes across the dusty floor. The girl lay still under her thin blanket, her breathing slow and peaceful. For once, her sleep had not been tormented by nightmares or memories she would have liked to eradicate. Instead, she dreamed of warm hands holding her and a voice whispering, "You are loved."
She didn't know whose voice it was.
And perhaps that mystery made it even more precious.
When her eyes finally opened, she lay staring up at the slanting sunlight for a moment, her face warming with it. She then slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She touched the little silver necklace around her neck—old, scratched, but deeply meaningful. It was the one thing she had been found with, the only piece of her past.
Sister Maya had told her it was probably worthless.
But the girl didn't believe that.
Whenever she held it, her heart felt calmer… safer… connected to something she didn't understand.
The orphanage was still quiet: most children were asleep, tucked into their old wooden beds. Carefully, she slipped out of her blanket and tiptoed outside to let the cool morning breeze touch her face. The courtyard was damp from last night's rain, with the scent of wet soil heavy in the air as if the earth itself breathed.
For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined she was somewhere else. Somewhere better. She envisioned herself in a flower field, walking hand in hand with someone who loved her, who had waited for her. She considered a home where she wasn't a burden or a curse or a mistake.
But dreams were fragile.
They always broke too easily.
Before she could take another breath, two shadows fell across her. Her heart had dropped the moment she heard their footsteps. Lara and Misha—two of the oldest girls in the orphanage—stood in front of her, smirking cruelly. They always looked at her like she was something they wanted to crush under their shoes.
"Well, look at this," Lara sneered, folding her arms. "Miss white-hair is enjoying the morning like she's a queen."
She dropped her gaze, but Misha was still not satisfied. She took a step closer and flicked the girl's long, white hair with the tip of her finger, as if touching something dirty.
"Why do you think everyone stares at you?" Misha whispered, her smile false and venomous. "Because you're cursed. Because you scare people."
She bit her lip hard. The pain was familiar, yet it always hurt.
Lara bent closer to him. "You don't belong here. Nobody wants you. You should've never been born."
The words struck her like stones.
She swallowed hard, murmuring, "I didn't… ask for this. I didn't choose how I look."
Misha laughed. "Oh, she talks back now?"
Lara stepped forward, her shadow falling over the girl. "Maybe we should remind you of your place."
Before they could touch her, a voice cut through the courtyard like a blade.
"Enough."
The girls froze. The girl turned and saw Sister Hana, the strictest caretaker, standing at the entrance of the courtyard. Known for her cold discipline and sharp tongue, she seldom interfered in small fights. Her presence itself made Lara and Misha straighten up like cats that had been scolded.
But today… she looked different.
Her face was pale. Her eyes were set entirely on the white-haired girl, but there was no anger; just shock. Recognition. And something else… something like fear.
"Both of you," said Sister Hana firmly, "go inside."
Lara and Misha didn't argue. They darted away, not wanting any trouble with the strict caretaker.
As soon as they disappeared, Sister Hana turned back toward the girl. Her expression was still strangely unreadable.
"You," she said quietly. "Come with me."
The girl hesitated, for Sister Hana rarely spoke softly. Something in her tone sounded heavy, as though she was carrying a secret she did not want to disclose.
Still, the girl followed.
The walk through the old hallways felt longer than usual. The wooden floor creaked beneath their footsteps. Dust floated in the beams of sunlight that passed through narrow windows. The silence was deep… almost uncomfortable.
They reached Sister Hana's office, a small and dimly lit room with old books, untouched papers, and the faint smell of ink. The caretaker closed the door behind them, locking out the world.
She said nothing for a moment. She only looked at the girl, scrutinizing her face as if she were trying to solve a puzzle.
"How old are you now?" Hana asked finally, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Seven," the girl replied, unsure as to why that would matter.
Hana gasped, as if this confirmation twisted something inside of her. Saying nothing more, she crossed the room, tugged open a drawer, and drew out a small wooden box wrapped in cloth.
The girl said nothing but her stomach tightened at the scene. Sister Hana's hands shook as she set the box on the table.
"This… was left with you," the caretaker said, her voice strained. "The night you were brought here."
The girl's breath caught in her throat.
Sister Hana opened the box slowly. Inside lay a folded piece of white fabric, a strange emblem stitched into it, and an old letter, whose edges were worn and fragile.
Hana picked up the letter and held it out.
"I wasn't supposed to show you this," she whispered. "I was told to keep it hidden. But I can't anymore. Not after seeing… how much you've suffered."
The girl's fingers shook as she took the letter. It felt heavier than paper, like it carried the weight of years, the weight of truth.
She unfolded it slowly.
The ink was faded but one line stood out so clearly, almost glowing in her widening eyes:
"Protect her. She must never return to the royal city."
Her heart skipped a beat.
Royal city?
Protect her?
What did this mean?
Her breathing grew shallow, her hands shaking so badly the letter almost dropped from her grasp.
"I don't understand." she whispered.
Sister Hana closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, cautious.
"You were not abandoned because no one wanted you."
She paused.
"You were abandoned… because someone was trying to keep you alive."
Everything around the girl blurred. The room seemed to sway. She felt like the ground beneath her had cracked open, revealing a truth that she wasn't ready for.
Her past wasn't straightforward.
Her existence was never an accident.
And somewhere in a faraway place-a royal city she had never seen-existed a secret connected with her birth.
A secret so dangerous… someone had risked everything to hide her. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. For the first time in her life, something powerful rose inside the girl—a feeling she couldn't name. Not fear. Not sadness. Something stronger. Something like the awakening of destiny.