CHAPTER FOUR
POPLAR

She sat patiently in the living room as they talked, with Timothy explaining everything. When they arrived in the room, they stood there, unsure of what to say. Later that day, Elizabeth left the house with Shelagh and Angelia. Shelagh couldn't stand to see Elizabeth wearing such worn clothes, so they went shopping for new ones. Elizabeth smiled as she looked at the clothing, touching the fabrics and savoring the soft textures. They felt so different from the ragged clothes she had always worn, which were rough like sandpaper and often left scars on her skin.

When they finally arrived home, Elizabeth stepped into a warm bath, the comforting heat spreading over her skin. It was a sensation she had never known before. Each time she had bathed in the past, which was rare, she had to steel herself for the cold, icy water that always shocked her body the moment it touched her. But now, as the warmth enveloped her, she could hardly believe how different it felt.

Afterward, she changed into the new clothes Shelagh had bought for her, while the old ones—tattered and worn—were tossed unceremoniously into the trash. "Good riddance," Shelagh muttered, slamming the lid shut with a finality that made Elizabeth laugh.

Elizabeth felt the warmth of the loving presence in the house, the way Shelagh's irritation at her old clothes seemed to dissipate, and how her humor had the power to make Elizabeth laugh. Yet, she knew it would take time for the house to truly feel like home.

She helped Shelagh with dinner, recalling how she had learned to cook at the age of seven in the orphanage, where she often prepared meals for the other children. The Matron, more interested in her own affairs than the well-being of the children, spent most of her time in her office. She rarely left unless it was to punish, and she refused to pay for a cook, keeping the money for herself instead.

Dinner passed in silence, with no one speaking to each other. Elizabeth simply looked around, studying the expressions on their faces. She could sense that everyone was in shock, processing everything that had happened.

After dinner, Elizabeth helped Shelagh with her bath before tucking her into bed. As she smoothed the covers, Shelagh looked up at her with a gentle smile. "I always read her a story. Would you like to do it tonight?" she asked, her eyes warm and inviting.

"Yes, I'd love to," Elizabeth replied, a wide grin spreading across her face. The smile Shelagh returned was soft and appreciative as she left the room.

Elizabeth sat down beside the bed, looking at Angela, who was now wide-eyed with curiosity. "Would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked, her voice calm and kind.

Angela smiled and nodded eagerly, and Elizabeth began:

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful girl named Elizabeth, who was trapped in a tower by an evil witch. If she left, she would be cursed until the end of time. But one day, a handsome prince heard of her tale and set out to rescue her. Though the world around her had been ruined, it didn't matter to the prince, because he had found her. They fell in love, and with a true love's kiss, the curse was broken. They married, had children, and lived happily ever after."

As she finished the story, Elizabeth smiled softly, knowing that, for just a moment, she had given Angela a sense of hope and peace.

After finishing her story, Elizabeth glanced down at Angela, who was fast asleep. She smiled softly before standing up and leaning over to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Angela's peaceful face reminded Elizabeth of the girls at the orphanage, and though she was happy, a tightness tugged at her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to push the feeling aside.

Quietly, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her with care. As she entered the living room, she exhaled slowly, hoping the calm of the house would ease the lingering ache in her heart.

As she entered the room, Elizabeth saw Shelagh preparing the sofa, turning it into a bed with fresh bedding for her. Her father sat at the table, a cigarette in hand, reading the newspaper. She glanced around for Timothy but didn't see him; he must have already gone to bed. She walked over and sat down at the table across from her father. He looked up from his paper and smiled at her, and for the first time, Elizabeth felt a sense of comfort in the house.

Shelagh briefly left the room, then returned, handing Elizabeth her nightclothes with a smile. As Elizabeth began to change, her father walked over, placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She looked up at him, offering a soft smile.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice filled with quiet concern.

"Overwhelmed, I suppose," Elizabeth replied, her smile tinged with uncertainty. "I always dreamed of this day. I always hoped it would come true, but deep down, I didn't think it actually would."

Tears began to form in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

He noticed the emotion in her eyes, and he could see that he felt the same. "Come sit down," her father said gently, and they both sat back down at the table. He leaned over, placing his hand over hers.

"I'm sorry you had to grow up without a family," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." Tears welled in his eyes, and Elizabeth felt a tightening in her chest.

"I don't know what it was like for you at the orphanage, but I can only imagine," he continued, his voice heavy with guilt.

Elizabeth didn't blame him for her time there—he hadn't known of her existence. But she couldn't shake the anger that simmered inside her, the frustration that she hadn't had the life her brother had.

"I don't blame you. I'm just glad I'm here now; that's all that matters," Elizabeth said, her voice soft but steady. Her father squeezed her hand, offering a silent comfort. Just then, Shelagh reentered the room, her presence gentle but reassuring. Both Elizabeth and her father turned to her.

"You'll always have a home here," Shelagh said, her voice warm as she crossed the room and placed a hand on her husband's shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity.

They sat together for a while, the room filled with an unspoken understanding. Eventually, her father and Shelagh retired for the night. Elizabeth, feeling the weight of the past twenty-four hours, climbed into bed and, with a deep sigh, quickly drifted into sleep. She was both emotionally and physically exhausted, the events of the day finally taking their toll.

End Of Chapter 4