When I took in a stranded fortune teller and her newborn, I thought I was just offering shelter.
But the next morning, my own daughter disappeared from her room.
mean to worry you.”
I took a breath, willing myself to calm down. “What… happened? Why is Sarah in here?”
Miranda gave a small, reassuring smile. “I was awake with my daughter, trying to get her to sleep, when I heard your little girl crying.” She glanced at Sarah, still sound asleep beside her. “She sounded so upset. I couldn’t just ignore her, so I came in quietly to check on her.”
I nodded, letting her continue.
“She was talking in her sleep,” Miranda explained, her voice soft. “Something about ‘Mommy.’ She looked so lost.”
I swallowed, the mention of “Mommy” hitting me in a tender spot I tried not to dwell on. Sarah often cried out for her mother in her sleep, a wound we were both still trying to heal from.
“She held my hand, even in her sleep,” Miranda continued. “I told her a story my grandmother used to tell me. A silly tale about a guardian who watches over children’s dreams and keeps all the bad ones away. She seemed to calm down after that.”
Miranda looked down at Sarah, her hand resting gently on my daughter’s shoulder. “After a while, I didn’t want to leave her alone, so I brought her here with me.”
I felt my shoulders relax, the initial tension giving way to something softer, something I couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” I said, my voice a bit rougher than I’d intended. “She’s… been having a hard time since the accident. And, well, since her mom passed.”
Miranda looked up at me, understanding in her eyes. “I know what it’s like to lose family. To feel like no one is there when you’re scared.” She reached over, patting Sarah’s hand. “She’s a sweet girl. She just needs someone close right now.”
I took a moment, watching her with my daughter, and realized that she’d managed to comfort Sarah in a way I hadn’t been able to in a long time. “She misses that,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Miranda. “A mother’s touch.”
Miranda gave a gentle nod, understanding without any need for more words. I felt a strange mix of gratitude and relief. She’d offered my daughter something I hadn’t been able to, a gentle presence we both seemed to need.
“Look, Miranda,” I began, taking a step closer. “I know you planned on moving on soon, but… maybe you could stay a little longer. Just until you’re ready. I think it would be good for Sarah.”
Miranda’s eyes softened, as if my words were both a surprise and a relief. “If you’re sure… I’d like that. Sarah’s a special little girl.”
Just then, Sarah stirred beside her, her eyes fluttering open. She looked up at me, blinking, and then glanced over at Miranda. “Daddy?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.
I crouched down beside her. “Morning, sweetheart. You had a little adventure last night.”
Sarah’s gaze moved from me to Miranda, a small smile spreading across her face. “Miranda told me a story,” she murmured, a spark of excitement in her sleepy eyes. “About a guardian who keeps the nightmares away.”
Miranda chuckled softly. “You were very brave, you know.”
Sarah’s smile grew, her previous nervousness replaced with a shy kind of joy. “Will you tell me more stories?”
Miranda glanced over at me, and I nodded, feeling a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. “Of course,” Miranda said, her voice warm. “I’d be happy to tell you as many as you like.”
In that small moment, the air felt lighter, as if the dark memories filling our home were giving way to something new. Sarah’s giggle as she asked Miranda questions about the story filled the room, a gentle melody that soothed something deep within me.
One night, as Sarah drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for Miranda’s unexpected presence. Somehow, this woman who had come into our lives in the strangest of ways had brought a kind of peace neither Sarah nor I had felt in a long time.
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This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
