“Cleo?” Skylar’s soft voice says, and I hear the girls giggling as I finally follow her inside, shutting the door behind me. Heather is sitting on the floor outside their blanket fort, looking exasperated.
“They’re in their hideaway, and they don’t want to come out for lunch,” Heather says, lacing her voice with friendly irritation as she looks up at Skylar and then me, a smile forming on her lips. “Oh Cleooooo, you have someone here who wants to talk to you.”
“We can’t leave! We’re princesses and we were locked inside by a witch!” Sierra argues, more giggles escaping as I grin and lean back against the door.
“Yeah! It’s a curse!” Cleo adds.
“Oh no, well… do you think we can break the curse?” Heather asks, waving Skylar closer with a smile.
“It’s strong magic,” Sierra explains through the layers of fabric.
Skylar hesitates, a slight frown on her face, but she slowly moves forward, moving to kneel beside Heather when my sister pats the floor. Leaning closer to the place where the blankets separate, Skylar beckons our sister again. “Cleo, it’s Skylar. Your sister. Will you come out?”
“We can’t!” Both girls answer, still laughing in their sweet voices.
Heather leans over, whispering something in Skylar’s ear, and then she sits back, motioning toward her.
“Um…” Skylar swallows, toying with her hair again. “I brought some magic dust from my house. It’s where Cleo, Richter, and I used to live together… when Cleo was little. Do you think that might break the curse?”
“Oooo, maybe!” Sierra answers, but Cleo is quiet.
“Okay, well, Skylar is sprinkling the magic dust all over the castle, and—wow! It looks like the spell is breaking!” Heather is using the same voice she uses with the younger kids, and it makes me proud of her. She’s such a good mama, as all of my sisters are, and I wonder why Skylar doesn’t have any kids yet.
They would have brought them if they did.
“It worked?” Sierra asks, peeking out of the blanket fort, and Heather lifts one of the blankets with a dramatic gasp.
“It did! Amazing!” Heather laughs, squeezing Skylar’s arm. “Apparently Skylar is very good with magic spells, and now you both can come eat lunch with us.”
Sierra crawls out, her eyes finding me against the wall, and I can see the need lingering in her gaze as she looks me over.
“Cleo?” Skylar calls again, leaning into the little fort. “Can you come out?”
“I don’t want to,” Cleo answers, her voice turning sour.
“But it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, and I really want to,” Skylar pleads. “Please?”
There’s no answer, but the edge of the blanket shifts and Cleo peeks out. Skylar covers her mouth, her shoulders pulling in, and I feel tension rush through me as I realize she’s trying not to cry.
“You have magic dust?” Cleo asks quietly, and Skylar shrugs before nodding a bit as she sniffles.
“I did, we… we used it break the spell.” Brushing her hands under her eyes, Skylar tries to smile. “Do you recognize me, Cleo?”
Cleo’s face pinches, eyes narrowing. “I don’t know.”
“Skylar is your sister,” I confirm, and Cleo looks over at me, listening because she knows I’d never lie to her.
“Like Sierra? And Heather?” Cleo clarifies, and I remember what Daddy told me about Cleo when she showed up here. That his Daddy brought her because she needed a family to love her—and we have. I was a year older than her when she showed up at breakfast one morning. She cried a lot at first, and I did everything I could to make her feel better. I let her play with all my toys, I let her hold the book when Xoe was teaching us to read. If anything, Sierra and Heather are more like family to Cleo than Skylar is, but I won’t say that.
It isn’t Skylar’s fault her Daddy couldn’t take care of so many kids.
“Yes, Skylar is your sister just like Sierra and Heather. We’re all family,” I confirm, and Skylar gives me an odd look before turning toward Cleo again.
“Do you remember me?” she asks, and I can tell she’s struggling not to cry.
“I don’t know!” Cleo snaps, crossing her arms. Then she looks at Heather with a pout firmly on her face. “Isn’t it lunchtime?”
“It is,” Heather says, pushing herself to her feet as she gives Skylar an apologetic smile. “Let’s all go eat. Xoe and I made sandwiches!”
“I like sandwiches!” Cleo announces, bouncing to her feet to grab Sierra’s hand. I open the door, letting them rush out, and Heather follows quickly on their heels. Skylar is slower to stand though, and I walk over to her as she gets to her feet.
“It’s okay, she’ll remember you,” I tell her, reaching to brush the tears off her cheek, but she turns her head away. I can tell she’s in pain, that Cleo’s answers hurt her feelings, and so I do what I would do for any of my sisters. I open my arms wide and ask, “Do you want a hug?”
Skylar’s face snaps up to look at me, surprise on her face, but she eventually shakes her head. “I-I can’t.”
“Why not? We’re family, aren’t we?” I gently touch her arms, nudging her toward me with a light tug. “What good is family if we can’t comfort each other when we’re upset?”
“I shouldn’t,” she whispers, but a second later she’s against my chest, my arms wrapped around her back as I give her a light squeeze.
I know why she answered the way she did.
Richter.
“I’m sorry Cleo didn’t recognize you, but I’m sure she will,” I say, leaning my cheek against the top of Skylar’s head as I sway with her a bit. The way her shaky exhale rushes over my chest has me imagining what she’d feel like in my bed. Would she still be shy, or would she be like my sisters? Grinning, I give her another comforting squeeze, her curves pressing against me as I add, “I
