Delia sat in the bath, her knees pulled close to her chest, her hands resting in the bubbles between her legs. She hadn't said much since they got home. Her mother, kneeling beside the tub quietly, was busy rinsing the sticky lemonade from her hair, working in silence. The only sounds were the occasional splash of water and the distant hum of the house. Delia felt the weight of the day pressing on her, heavier than before.

"M-mama..." she hiccupped softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I didn't spill everything on purpose... I'm just clumsy... I ruined it all... I'm sorry."

She felt a knot tighten in her throat as she spoke, the lie sitting uncomfortably in her chest. She didn't know why she hadn't told her mother the truth about what had happened. Maybe it was because of that unspoken rule among kids: no tattling, no matter how bad things got. Or maybe, deep down, she was afraid that if she told, the other kids would hate her even more. And the thought of her mother being upset... it was unbearable.

Mrs. Carter sighed softly, squeezing the shampoo from the bottle and working it through Delia's tangled hair. "It's okay, sweetie." she murmured, her voice gentle but distracted. "Accidents happen... Just try to be more careful next time, alright?"

Delia nodded, though her heart ached. She wanted to tell her mom everything, but the words just wouldn't come. So she sat there, silent and saddened.

When she got out of the bath, the guilt hadn't washed away with the lemonade. She slipped into her soft clothes, but they did little to comfort her. From the window, she could see her father outside, quietly cleaning up what was left of the stand. He wasn't complaining or scolding her: just working, calmly wiping things down and packing everything away. The sight made her stomach twist. She had tried to clean it earlier, but the sticky drink clung to her skin, making everything unbearable. Her hands had been covered in sugar, dirt, and frustration, and she'd quickly given up. Now, standing by the window, watching her father do what she should've been able to handle herself, the shame crept back over her.

If only none of this had happened... if only the other kids hadn't come. She wanted more than anything to crawl under her blankets, to hide from the world, to close her eyes and not have to face the embarrassment. That's what she did. She whipped around, rushed to her room, slipped under her covers and pulled them over her head, wishing she could disappear completely.

Maybe she could ask Leelee for advice. Leelee was always there, always ready with a comforting word. But as Delia thought about it, the familiar warmth of Leelee's voice echoed in her mind, soft and reassuring: "It's okay, Delia. Everything's fine. You're okay..."

But that wasn't what Delia wanted. Not this time. She didn't need more comfort, not right now. What she craved was honesty, someone to tell her the truth, even when it hurt. She needed someone who wouldn't always agree with her, someone who could help her make sense of everything without sugarcoating it. She pushed herself up from under the covers, her heart pounding as she closed her eyes tightly. This time, she was going to imagine someone new. A friend who wasn't just there to make her feel better, but someone real, even if they only existed in her mind.

Delia concentrated hard, imagining what this new friend would be like. Honest, but kind. Someone who wouldn't always agree with her, who'd challenge her when she needed it, but still cared about her. They wouldn't have to like all the same things she did, but they'd have just enough in common to understand her. She didn't care about their appearance. She wasn't interested in that. What she wanted, what she needed, was a friend with a real personality.

Delia focused. Focused so hard her head began to buzz, as if the room itself were spinning in sync with her thoughts. Focus, focus, focus...

"Hey, are you okay?" came a soft voice, so close to her ear it made her jump.

Delia's eyes shot open, and she gasped, turning quickly. There, standing beside her, was someone. A girl, but unlike anyone Delia had ever imagined before. She was strange, yet beautiful in a way that took Delia's breath away. Her skin was the color of ash, with long, black hair tumbling messily down her back. Her eyes, spiraling and mysterious, glinted with curiosity, and behind her were small, bat-like wings, giving her an air of mischief. A tail swayed rhythmically behind her.

Delia stood frozen, staring at the girl in shock, her lips parting but no words coming out. She couldn't believe it.

The girl chuckled. "What? Cat got your tongue?"

Delia swallowed, her voice shaky as she finally managed to speak. "Is that... you?"

The strange girl grinned, her spiraling eyes twinkling. "It's me." she laughed, as if they'd always known each other.

"Is it really you?" Delia repeated, her excitement bubbling over.

"Yes, it's really me, silly!" the girl replied with a playful roll of her eyes.

Delia squealed in delight, clapping her hands together. It had worked! It had actually worked! She felt a flicker of guilt for Leelee and the others, but it wasn't like she'd abandon them - this was just a new friend, a different friend. One she'd created with so much care. She moved closer, her eyes wide, inspecting the girl from every angle, as if she couldn't believe her own imagination had conjured someone so vivid.

"You're really here! I didn't know you'd be... Ohh, and your little wings!" Delia cooed, practically bouncing as she circled the girl.

The girl glanced over her shoulder at the tiny wings fluttering behind her, then smiled and, without a word, gently rose into the air. Her wings flapped slowly, almost lazily, as she hovered a few feet above the floor.

Delia's eyes widened in amazement, her breath catching in her throat. "You can fly?!" she gasped, her delight turning into pure wonder.

"I doubt my wings are there for decoration." her new friend deadpanned, her feet softly touching back down to the floor.

"O-oh, excuse me!" Delia stammered, her cheeks flushing pink in embarrassment. She hadn't meant to sound so silly. Quickly, she shifted gears, eager to change the subject. "I'm Delia! Do you... um, have a name?"

The girl smiled, her spiraling eyes locking onto Delia's. "Dusk, like when night begins."

Delia repeated it quietly to herself, testing the name on her lips. "Dusk... that's beautiful!"

"I know, I know, I'm beautiful." Dusk teased, tossing a wink before leaning in closer to Delia. "But I'm not here to talk about me. You looked pretty down. What's going on?"

Delia's smile faded as the memories of that awful day came flooding back. The weight of it all tugged at her chest. She glanced towards the door, making sure no one was around, then gestured for Dusk to follow her to the closet. She wanted privacy for this. Dusk, intrigued, followed without question, and crouched down beside Delia. Once inside, Delia whispered everything: the lemonade stand, the teasing, the way the other kids dumped drinks on her. She didn't leave anything out.

When she finished, Dusk sat back, arms crossed, her expression thoughtful. "You know..." she began slowly. "There are idiots everywhere."

Delia blinked, surprised by the bluntness.

"They don't get you." Dusk continued. "And they don't want to. They think you're weird because you don't fit in their little box, and they're not interested in figuring out how wrong they are. People like that? They're not worth your time. Don't waste your energy worrying about them."

Delia stared at Dusk, feeling something shift inside her. She'd never heard anyone say it like that before. Sure, her parents had always been loving, always offered kind advice. But she had never told them about the other kids, never asked how to deal with them. So, she had never heard this kind of truth. And somehow, hearing it made her feel a little less alone.

A flicker of doubt still lingered in Delia's chest. "I lied to Mama... She'd be so worried if she knew I didn't have any friends at school. And Dad... he'd be sad too." She glanced down, her voice soft. "I want real friends too. I feel so alone. How can I make them like me?"

Dusk tilted her head, watching Delia carefully. "There's nothing you can do to make them like you." she said gently but firmly. "But you can find people who won't ask you to change, people who will actually like you for who you are. Like me." She gave a small, reassuring smile. "And besides, your mom and dad? They should understand that you need your own space, too."

"But... it's because they love me that they worry like this!" Delia protested, a bit defensive, her heart tugging at the thought of her parents.

"Of course." Dusk shrugged with a knowing look. "But loving someone also means trusting them to figure things out, doesn't it?"

Delia stared at her knees, her voice barely above a whisper. "But my dad and my mama... they deserve to know. They're the nicest people in the world."

Dusk's frown softened into curiosity. "What are they like?"

Delia thought for a moment, her face lighting up just talking about them. "Mama always combs my hair and tells me I'm the prettiest. She buys me clothes that make me feel like the cutest flower in the garden. She talks to me so softly and tells me the best stories before bed. "Delia's smile grew as she continued. "And Dad... he's always making jokes to make me laugh. He lets me help him cook, and he gives the best hugs. He smells like vanilla. He calls me his little sun... says I light up his whole life."

Dusk listened, her expression unreadable for a moment before she finally spoke. "Sounds like they love you a lot." she said, almost thoughtfully. "I guess it's no surprise they'd worry about you. But even the best parents can't fix everything for you, you know? Sometimes you have to figure it out on your own."

Delia nodded slowly, taking it all in. She looked up, her eyes shining a little brighter. "Thank you, Dusk. This is the first time I've had a friend like you. I've only just met you, but you've already helped me so much."

Dusk waved it off casually. "That's what friends are for, right? Doesn't matter how long you've known them, or what the situation is."

Without thinking, Delia reached out and hugged her. She knew, logically, that she was probably hugging empty air. But somehow, in that moment, it felt real. She could swear she was holding someone solid and warm, someone who really cared. She couldn't believe how it felt...

Until her father's voice called out from the kitchen:
"Delia, dinner's ready! Maybe you're not very hungry after everything, but come stay with us anyway."

Feeling lighter, Delia hopped up from the closet and waved for Dusk to follow. She hurried to the door, but then paused, noticing her new friend hadn't moved. "Dusk? Aren't you coming? I'll introduce you to them!" she said, confused.

Dusk hesitated, her voice quieter than before. "N-no... I'm a little shy... You go ahead, though."

Delia squinted, unsure. "You promise one day I can introduce you?"

Dusk smiled faintly and nodded. "I promise."

With that, Delia grinned and bounced out of the room, ready to face her parents, feeling a little braver than before. At dinner, they noticed she seemed a bit brighter, though they couldn't quite figure out why she was rushing through her meal so quickly.

"Daddy?" she asked shyly after swallowing her last bite.

Mr. Carter turned toward her, curious. "What's up, sweetie?"

"I know what happened today wasn't great." Delia admitted. "But... I'd really like to make cinnamon pie with you after dinner. I want to bring it to my new friend tomorrow. She's really shy."

Ophelia raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Isn't that just an excuse to eat pie yourself?"

Delia gasped, shaking her head in genuine outrage at the accusation.

Mr. Carter chuckled, playing along. "Mhm, after what happened today, I'm not sure if you deserve pie..."

Delia didn't seem to catch the playful tone. She looked down, her voice small and serious. "You're right, Daddy... I don't deserve it... I'm so sorry."

Ophelia stifled a laugh as her husband's face drained of color, panic flashing in his eyes. "No, no, honey, it was a joke! Of course we can make the pie!" he explained quickly.

Delia blinked, then a slow smile spread across her face, and she giggled. As promised, after dinner, father and daughter met in the kitchen. Delia stood on her trusty stepladder, barely able to contain her excitement.

"So, sunshine, are you ready?" Mr. Carter asked with a grin.

"Aye aye, Captain!" Delia laughed, standing tall.

"I can't hear youuuu!" her father teased, leaning in dramatically.

"Aye aye, Captain!!" Delia shouted back, giggling.

They both chuckled before diving into the cinnamon pie recipe. Mr. Carter laid out all the ingredients: flour, butter, sugar, cinnamon, eggs, and a bit of vanilla extract.

"Okay, first things first!" Michael said, handing Delia the flour. "Two cups. You got this?"

Delia nodded determinedly, measuring the flour and dumping it into the mixing bowl. A small cloud of white powder puffed into the air, and Delia waved it away with a giggle.

"Now, let's cut the butter into it." he continued, handing her a knife to slice the cold butter into cubes. "This makes it flaky. We don't want to overmix it, so just mash it together with your fingers until it looks crumbly, like little pebbles."

Delia scrunched up her nose as she squished the butter into the flour, her tiny fingers working carefully. "It's like sand!" she said, eyes bright with excitement.

"Exactly! You're a natural!" he said, patting her shoulder.

Next, he handed her a small bowl with an egg and some ice-cold water. "Now, crack the egg in, then add a splash of this water. Mix it up with a fork."

Delia concentrated hard as she cracked the egg, careful not to let any shell fall in. She whisked it together with the water, frowning in focus.

"Good job! Now, pour that in slowly while we mix everything together." her father instructed, guiding her hand as they worked the dough into a smooth ball.

While the dough chilled in the fridge, Mr. Carter set up the filling ingredients. "Okay, while that rests, let's work on the cinnamon sugar filling. How much cinnamon do you think we need?"

"Hmm... a lot?" Delia guessed, wide-eyed.

"Good guess! About two teaspoons. Mix that with half a cup of sugar, and then we'll add a dash of vanilla to make it extra tasty."

Delia stirred the cinnamon and sugar together, the sweet smell filling the air. "This is going to be so good!!" she declared, excited.

Once the dough was chilled, they rolled it out on the counter, and Mr. Carter helped Delia fit it into the pie tin. "Now, we pour that yummy cinnamon mixture in." he said, letting her take the lead.

With careful hands, Delia sprinkled the cinnamon filling evenly, humming to herself as she worked. "My new friend's going to love this!"

"I bet she will." her father smiled, "Now, let's pop this in the oven."

As they closed the oven door, Delia looked up at her dad with a proud grin. "Captain, mission accomplished."

"Indeed it is, First Mate." Mr. Carter chuckled, giving her a gentle salute. "I'm going to make some whipped cream to put on top. You can go while it's baking."

Delia shook her head with determination and hoisted herself up onto the counter, swinging her legs. "No, Daddy. I want to stay with you. I love you."

Her father's heart melted at her words. He smiled warmly, ruffling her damp hair. "Well, I'm not going to argue with that."

As he started whipping the cream, Delia began to ramble about her new friend. "She's really cool, Daddy. She doesn't just say nice things, she tells me the truth."

Mr. Carter, focused on his task, nodded along. "Sounds like a good friend. Honest ones are the best."

Delia nodded earnestly, feeling comforted. She could have sworn Dusk was watching them from somewhere, silently approving of her words.

"I think Dusk would love the pie." Delia said dreamily.

"I hope so." her father replied, handing her a tiny spoonful of whipped cream. "What do you think?"

Delia tasted it and gave a big thumbs up. "Perfect!" she beamed.

After offering her parents two generous slices of pie, Delia hurried up to her room. She knew Dusk would be there, waiting for her. Sure enough, as she opened the door, she found her nestled among her blankets, the soft glow of the star-shaped lights overhead casting a warm glow on her skin. Dusk, lost in thought, was studying the drawings that covered the walls: fantastical creatures, dragons, fairies, and magical worlds sketched in crayon. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, as if she were trying to understand something deeply hidden within each drawing.

Delia grinned mischievously, creeping closer, hoping to surprise her. She set the plate with a slice of pie down on the edge of the bed, causing Dusk to turn abruptly, startled. For a moment, she just stared at the pie, her expression unreadable. She hesitated, twitching as if unsure. Finally, she picked up the fork Delia had left with the slice, taking a small, cautious bite. The brunette sat beside her, cross-legged, saying nothing so as not to disturb her, her eyes wide with anticipation. She watched as Dusk chewed slowly, her spiraling eyes flickering with thought. Finally, Dusk swallowed and gave a small, reluctant smile.

"It's... good." Dusk admitted, her voice soft.

Delia's heart soared at the simple compliment. "I knew you'd like it!" she whispered, leaning back into her pillows with a contented sigh. They sat there in the quiet together.

Delia fought to keep her eyes open, hovering between the comforting warmth of her bed and the lingering excitement of Dusk's presence. She felt Dusk move closer, brushing softly against Delia's arm as she snuggled in, bringing an unexpected sense of peace. Delia's eyelids grew heavier, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't fight the pull of sleep any longer.

She drifted into a world where the lines between reality and fantasy blurred, and her dreams morphed. Flames danced around her, flickering and swaying. Whispers echoed softly in her ears, a chorus of voices – some familiar, some distant – speaking secrets she couldn't quite grasp. Yet, there was a comforting presence beside her. Dusk hovered nearby. As the night wore on, the flames began to retreat, replaced by soft, shimmering stars that twinkled overhead. And as the darkness faded into dawn, Delia held onto the warmth of her new friend's protection, knowing she could face whatever awaited her in the waking world, and clueless at the same time.