"What do you think you're doing?" a stern, authoritative voice questioned as it marched toward them.

"Apologies, Mrs Kargle. Emily wasn't feeling well, so I thought..." Lydia began, but her sentence was abruptly cut off.

"You thought you could simply barge in here while I was absent? Do you truly believe tha-" She ceased speaking upon noticing Emily's distressed appearance. "My goodness, what happened to you?"

"It's nothing to be concerned about, Mrs Kargle. I just got a bit dizzy. I'm feeling better now."

"If this is 'better,' I shudder to think what you looked like before."

"We should head out now. The kids will be arriving soon," Emily said, evading the subject.

Lydia seemed apprehensive about Emily continuing to work in her condition, but Emily had resolved herself firmly, and no one could deter her.

The remainder of the day passed like a haze for Emily. She was barely conscious of her actions, though she made an effort to suppress the haunting thoughts. Occasionally, she excused herself to the bathroom to cry for a few moments before returning, putting on a facade as if nothing had happened. She was striving to be strong, following the principle she had been taught throughout her life - "Never reveal your fears and sorrows; others will exploit them," a saying her mother often repeated. Hence, she abided by this principle. 

Nonetheless, she felt as though her body was aching with pain and sorrow, longing for someone with whom she could share these burdens, hoping that doing so might provide some peace. Yet, there was no one she could truly depend on. She had begun to believe that Alex could be that confidant for her. However, the moment she started to open up to him, he too vanished from her life.

As Emily left work that day, a sense of desolation clung to her like a heavy cloak. The journey back home felt almost surreal, as if she were moving through a fog of her own thoughts. The familiar scenery of the town passed by in a blur, barely registering in her mind.

She tried to find comfort in the presence of her horses when she reached home, seeking their calming energy. However, even their gentle nuzzles and whinnies failed to mend the fragments of her shattered spirit. The connection she usually cherished with them was momentarily dulled by the overwhelming storm of emotions raging within her.

The evening light started to fade, casting long shadows across the yard as the sun dipped below the horizon. Emily's exhaustion was palpable, her eyes carrying the weariness of a sleepless night and emotional strain. Despite her profound fatigue, sleep seemed like an elusive dream, slipping through her grasp as she lay in bed.

Each thread of her contemplation seemed to lead her to the same question - What is happening to me? 

She was trapped in a cycle of fear and confusion, and as the hours ticked by, she couldn't help but replay the events in her mind over and over again.

The first light of dawn eventually filtered through her window, signaling the start of another day. With a sense of reluctant resignation, Emily got up, her body aching from both the physical and emotional toll. Her work shift was about to begin again, and she braced herself to face the world, even though every step felt like a struggle. On her way back to the nursery, Emily recalled a scene from her childhood and a heartfelt conversation she had shared with her father.

When she was seven years old, a relentless storm raged for days. The constant thunder and heavy rain persisted unabated. One fateful day, a lightning bolt struck, plunging the town and its surroundings into darkness as the electricity flickered out. This event marked the beginning of Emily's fear of storms and the onset of her nightmares. During one of those nights, her father, drawn by her screams, entered her room. He sat on the edge of her bed, using the affectionate nickname he had for her, "My little duckling." His voice was a soothing melody, aimed at calming her distress.

"Have I ever told you the story of a little girl and her flower?" 

Emily shook her head, her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Would you like to hear it now?" he asked, gently wiping away a tear from her cheek. She nodded and he started to weave a story that would become a beacon of solace during her moments of doubt and fear.

"Once upon a time, in a faraway land filled with wonders, lived a little girl named Hope. Oh, how she cherished her precious garden, where all sorts of colorful flowers would bloom and dance in the sunlight. There were dainty daisies, radiant roses, and even twinkling tulips that glittered like stars.
But one day, a fierce storm swept through the land, with thunder and lightning that shook the earth. The wind howled, and the rain poured down like tears from the sky. When the storm had passed, Hope went out to her beloved garden, and her heart sank. The storm had broken and bruised all her beautiful flowers."

"Oh no!" Emily exclaimed, listening closely as her father continued.

"Poor Hope was so sad, tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the ruins of her once-flourishing garden. She felt as though her dearest friends had vanished. One day she decided to visit her garden again, though it had been a while since she had set foot there.
There, in the middle of the garden, she spotted a small green stem, bravely pushing through the dirt. It was the only flower that had survived the storm's fury. Hope carefully took the fragile stem and planted it in a cozy pot. She placed the pot on her windowsill, where the flower could bask in the warm sunshine.
Every day, she would visit her new friend, talking to it, singing sweet songs, and giving it all the care and love she could muster. Over time, that little stem grew and grew, its petals unfurling into a splendid, radiant pink flower. This flower marked the beginning of a fresh new garden, more beautiful than before.
The little girl realized that there is nothing in the whole world that is stronger than the feeling of hope and as long as there is hope in her heart, it will show her the way out of any storm. And so, she lived happily ever after, tending to her garden with love, always nurturing the hope that bloomed within her."

„How come you never told me this one before?", Emily asked curiously.

"I was waiting for just the right moment. Did you like it?"

"It was great!" she exclaimed, her lips curving into a smile. „Dad, do you know which flower it was? Could I have one too?"

He gazed at her affectionately. "You can have one if you want, but you don't need it. You already are just like the flower in the story."

"I'm not a flower, dad. I'm a girl!" Emily retorted, her brows furrowing as she crossed her arms.

He let out a chuckle. "Of course, you're not a flower. But the flower from the story was called an Emily Chrysanthemum and you, my curious princess, were named after it. That's why you don't have to be afraid of anything - I'm certain no storm can ever break you," he said, playfully tapping her nose.

"Really?" she exclaimed, her little hands clapping with joy.

"Really. Now go to sleep, my little duckling." He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, switched off the light, and left the room.

As Emily recollected this memory from her childhood, a beautiful warmth wrapped around her. The weight of her journey so far and the darkness she had to navigate, was daunting, but she decided to hold onto a glimmer of hope that somewhere in the midst of it all, she would discover the truth and reclaim her sense of peace.

She found herself standing in front of the nursery, hope flickering within her despite the disappointment from the previous days. She yearned to see Alex bringing Marnie in, to have some closure, but when Mrs Kargle parked her car and Marnie hopped out, she couldn't help but feel a sense of defeat. As Mrs Kargle entered the nursery, she offered a warm touch to Emily's shoulder, showing her understanding and empathy.

"I warned you about this," she said, not in a scolding manner, but as if to acknowledge Emily's feelings. Mrs Kargle had likely seen similar situations before and understood the complexity of emotions Emily was going through.

Despite everything, Emily tried to maintain her usual cheerful demeanour for the children at the nursery. She didn't want her personal struggles to affect her work, but she couldn't help but wonder if she had misjudged something, if she had somehow driven him away. She played back their conversations, searching for any clues or signs that might explain his sudden disappearance. But nothing stood out, and she was left with an aching feeling of not knowing. The frustration weighed heavily on her, not only towards him but towards herself for allowing herself to open up and be vulnerable. Scolding herself, Emily thought, You knew better than that.

She had been cautious with her emotions in the past, guarding her heart from potential pain. Now, it seemed like her efforts had been in vain. The disappointment and self-blame were difficult to bear.
In an attempt to protect herself from further heartache, Emily decided to brush off the situation and try not to dwell on it. Over the next few days, she distanced herself a little from Marnie, not because she blamed the little girl, but because Marnie reminded her of the times she had spent with Alex. The memories were bittersweet, leaving her torn between holding onto the connection they had formed and trying to move on.

Determined to return to her old life and routines, on a serene Saturday afternoon she took Hazel out for a ride. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky with warm hues, and as they galloped through the neighbourhood, she noticed a glimmer of light coming from Lucy's old bedroom. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, bringing back memories of the times she had spent with her. Emily's heart raced as she stood there, crossing her fingers that it was indeed the Garnetts who had returned. She had missed them dearly, and they had become like a second family to her.

The sight of the light on in their old house ignited a spark of excitement within her, and she couldn't resist going to check. She dismounted Hazel and tied her to the post in the yard. She cautiously approached the house and gently knocked on the door, half-expecting that no one would answer. To her surprise, a faint glimpse of someone peering through the small glass part of the door behind the curtains caught her eye and a familiar voice rang out.

"Axy, Emily's here. May I open the door?"