Chapter 10 - THE SISTERS MEET
The first meeting happened at a rented lakeside cottage.
Neutral.
No Corsaro estate.
No Hale home.
No symbolism.
Just a place with a kitchen, a dock, and too many board games.
Dulcie arrived first.
She changed outfits twice.
Then pretended she had not.
Stellan said nothing.
Maeve arrived with Claire.
She stopped outside the door.
Dulcie stood inside.
For ten seconds, neither moved.
Stellan felt every adult in the room become too aware of breathing.
Then Dulcie said:
“You’re taller.”
Maeve frowned.
“No, I’m not.”
They stood back-to-back.
Dulcie won by maybe half an inch.
Immediate rivalry.
Healthy kind.
Maeve pointed at Dulcie’s necklace.
Dulcie touched it.
Maeve pulled her matching pendant from beneath her shirt.
Two circles.
The girls stared.
Dulcie whispered:
“Mom gave you yours?”
Maeve nodded.
“Aunt Elena.”
Then corrected herself.
“Mom.”
That word filled the room.
Dulcie’s eyes filled.
Maeve’s too.
Neither adult interrupted.
Finally Dulcie asked:
“Did she sing the stupid moon song?”
Maeve blinked.
“Yes.”
“The one where she forgot the words?”
“Yes!”
Both began laughing.
Same memory.
Different rooms.
Elena had sung to both daughters.
Not enough.
Something.
Stellan turned away.
Claire pretended to inspect the window.
The meeting lasted three hours.
No instant inseparable twins.
They argued over a board game.
Maeve thought Dulcie cheated.
Dulcie accused Maeve of making rules.
Then they shared cookies.
Then ignored each other for twenty minutes.
Normal.
Before leaving, Maeve asked Stellan:
“Can I see your house?”
He looked at Claire.
Maeve noticed.
“Why are you looking at her?”
“Because she’s your parent.”
Good.
Claire nodded.
“Next time.”
Dulcie immediately:
“You can sleep in my room.”
Maeve:
“I want my own.”
Dulcie:
“Fine.”
Perfect.
The second visit happened at the estate.
Stellan removed the kennel before Maeve came.
Dulcie stopped him.
“No.”
He frowned.
She looked at the empty structure.
“I want it gone.”
“Yes.”
“But not like it never happened.”
Stellan waited.
Dulcie thought.
“Turn it into something else.”
They converted the old service-courtyard kennel into a small garden storage frame covered in climbing roses.
No gate.
No restraint.
No animal cage.
Dulcie chose yellow flowers.
When Maeve saw it, she asked:
“What was it?”
Dulcie looked at Stellan.
Her choice.
“A kennel.”
“Why roses?”
“Long story.”
Maeve accepted.
Children do not always need trauma summaries.
Inside the house, Maeve found photographs of Elena.
Many.
She stood in front of one.
“She looked younger here.”
Dulcie said:
“She hated that dress.”
“How do you know?”
“Daddy says.”
Stellan corrected:
“Your mother said.”
Maeve touched the frame.
Then looked at Stellan.
“Can I have a copy?”
He nearly said:
Take anything.
Stopped.
“Yes.”
Specific.
Normal.
“Which one?”
“This.”
He had a copy made.
Not the original.
Maeve smiled.
Boundary survived generosity.
Later she asked to see Elena’s room.
Dulcie went with her.
Stellan did not.
Some spaces belonged to daughters.
That night Dulcie came downstairs.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Maeve calls Claire Mom.”
“I know.”
“Does that make Mommy less her mom?”
“No.”
“Does it make Claire her mom too?”
“Yes.”
Dulcie thought.
“Can people have two?”
“Yes.”
“Can she have two dads?”
Stellan froze.
“Claire’s husband died when Maeve was little.”
“Oh.”
Dulcie continued.
“So maybe you’re second.”
He smiled sadly.
“Maybe.”
Dulcie nodded.
“Don’t be jealous.”
Stellan laughed.
May you like
“I’ll work on it.”
Children again.
