"Digby?" Mom's soft voice and gentle knock broke through my sleep to find my bedroom still drowned in darkness. "Rise and shine, sweetheart. You've got a big day ahead of you."

Though my bedroom was still dark with the lingering of night, lights bled under the door to imply that the hallway lights were on and I was likely the last one still sleeping. A sweetness drifted through the air, perhaps something of frosting or a rich treat that waited for me, and despite not knowing entirely what caused it, a rumble crept through the pit of my hollow stomach. I passed a paw over my drowsy eyes, propping myself up onto my elbows in the bed and sneaking a glance at my alarm clock to discover that it was a couple minutes before six forty.

"What?" I mumbled.

Mom gave a short answer in reply to this, sustaining her patient tone, but it was only after she had spoken did I realize that in my state of half-sleep I had forgotten to listen. Just as I had the chance to acknowledge that I had something to answer to, I could hear her walking away again to leave my door.

I flopped back down onto the bed, allowing my eyes to shut for just a few moments longer. Everything was flooding back to me now. Today was my birthday, the one and only day in my life where I would turn eighteen years old. It was such a sudden change from seventeen and I couldn't truthfully say that I felt any different, but a tiny flutter of joy in my stomach told me that this was about to be a special day.

As my drowsiness slowly withered away, I pulled myself out of bed at last, flicking on the lights and dressing myself in my work uniform. It might have been my birthday, but as far as I knew, it was back to work as usual, at least after what Mom and Dad had planned for this morning. Once I had managed to fumble into my uniform in the fragility of the early morning, fifteen minutes before I would have normally gotten myself up, I ducked out of my bedroom into the uncertainty of the new day.

I emerged through the doorway of my bedroom into the hallway to the distant sound of dishes clattering. Somebody must have been setting the table for breakfast. My mind was still reeling slightly by the sudden shift in routine and the fact that I wasn't the only one awake at this time of day as I quietly pulled the door shut behind me to join my parents in the dining room.

Before I could even take one step through the hallway, my eyes found Isabelle's bedroom door to my left down the hallway, latched shut as a constant reminder of how she was no longer here. Celebrating our special day was about to be significantly different without my twin sister by my side, but it must have been much stranger to her, having to celebrate so far away from home. Would she even celebrate at all? What would today even look like for her?

I didn't linger on this thought for too long. I abandoned my bedroom door, shuffling through the hallway to reach the dining room, and emerged to find both Mom and Dad already there. Dad was inching around the side of the table, carefully setting plates to prepare for the meal, and Mom was seated at the end of the table to wait. Both of them quickly glanced up as I stepped into the room.

Mom was the first to react, responding instantly to my arrival. A beaming smile etched onto her face as she climbed up from her seat at the table, already outstretching her arms as she hurried to greet me.

"There's my handsome little man," Mom gushed. The lights in the room felt to throb against my tired eyes as she cradled my face in her paws as if trying to hold me still. "I can't believe you're eighteen today. Wow, life just goes by so fast."

"Good morning," I mumbled sleepily.

"You're going to be taller than me soon. How about that?" Mom told me. She held my face in her paws for just a few seconds longer before she carefully pulled me closer, planting a kiss on my forehead and pulling away. "I hope you know that whatever you want to do or have today, I'll have that done for you. No questions asked. You don't get an occasion like this every single day. But first, we made you an extra special breakfast. Let me bring it out real quick."

As Mom swept back through the room to reach the kitchen doors, Dad set down the final plate and rested his paws on the surface of the table to smile at me. "She's right, Digby," he said. "It's quite a big day for you. A lot of new changes, for sure, but a lot of new responsibility. You're most definitely an adult from here on out."

"What kind of new responsibility?" I asked him, drawing out a chair at the table and dropping into a seat.

"You'll need to start counting on yourself for some more daily tasks, for a start," Dad explained. "Advocating for yourself, for example. In the eye of society, this is realistically when you would start taking care of yourself. That knowledge doesn't come right away, so your mother and I are here to help you with whatever you need to move forward in life."

Counting on myself, I acknowledged. At least that's something I know how to do.

Dad was lowering himself into his seat across the table when the kitchen door swung open again. Mom was stepping through the doorway again, carrying with her a broad round plate of treats that I could instantly tell by the decoration of pale frosting and brown swirls were large cinnamon rolls. As she emerged into the room, the scent from the rolls began to waft throughout the room, quickly filling the air.

"All right, here we are!" Mom said, carefully relocating the plate to the table and reaching out to set it in the middle. There were three rolls on the plate, one for each of us. "We don't have any candles, but hopefully this does the trick."

Mom withdrew again, moving around the table to the seat next to Dad's and seating herself. She settled into a comfortable seat before she raised her eyes to meet mine again.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't expect to be woken up at six-thirty in the morning for dessert and a song," Mom said, offering a lighthearted laugh before she reached over to close Dad's paw in her own as they rested on the table. "I know that you'll be needing to leave for work soon, so we'll make this quick. We won't keep you here too long, I promise."

Mom gave Dad's paw a gentle squeeze, sparing him a brief glance as if silently trying to communicate with them before they began to sing together.

"Happy birthday to you," Mom and Dad both sang lightly in unison. I wasn't completely certain what I was meant to be doing while I was being sung to, so I dropped my gaze to the rolls in front of me and listened. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Digby, happy birthday to you."

I caught the sound of the chime from my alarm clock from my bedroom, but I wasn't there to silence it. Mom drew in a deep breath, giving Dad's paw a short pat, and pushed herself up from the table to her feet.

"I think I just heard your alarm start going off," Mom told me, inching around the table on her way to reach the hallway. "I'm going to go shut that off for you. Why don't you start on your breakfast? You don't have to worry about finishing it if it ends up being too sweet."

The roll was warm and fluffy as I allowed myself a generous bite of my own and the frosting seemed to melt right into the pastry flavors. The sound of my alarm came to an end and Mom made a reappearance in the room shortly after, joining Dad and me for our meal together. We ate our sweet treats in the slow opening of the morning, the shadowed atmosphere of night slowly creeping into the corners, and I could sense the minutes counting down to the time when I would need to be on my way.

The treat didn't last long. I was the first to finish my meal, fully consuming my breakfast in a touch longer than five minutes at most while Mom and Dad continued to enjoy their meal. I had tried to excuse myself from the table with the intention of making myself presentable for work, but Dad held me back. Evidently, he and Mom had one more surprise that they had wanted to bring out for me.

And so, I sat with my parents at the table as they finished their treats, apologizing with every other bite at the time they were taking up. The meal came to an end and Dad brought the empty plate back into the kitchen, likely to wash while I was away at work for the day. Mom departed from the table briefly to excuse herself to her bedroom to retrieve the final surprise, and when she emerged from the hallway again, she held two rectangular neatly-wrapped gifts for the occasion.

I peeled back the wrapping paper of my gifts as soon as both of my parents had seated themselves at the table again to watch. The first gift was a book, a lighthearted handbook of sorts, thick in length and advising the first steps and best techniques to advance into adulthood and to take care of oneself. The second was a journal, this time thinner and instead of advice gave nothing more than an empty template to make goals and bucket lists in life. Mom apologetically admitted that I hadn't opened up often about my interests this year, something I could have easily agreed on as I hadn't discovered them myself, and had picked out with Dad some tools to help me feel less afraid or alone to move forward into the future.

"Life always feels more secure with a goal in mind," Mom told me as the three of us sat around the wooden table. She had been talking for a few minutes, offering suggestions for how to pursue my future and informing me how to best use the books that had been given to me, which sat in a short pile in front of me. "It makes you feel like you have a path to stay on or a definite end result to reach. Even if it's just little goals, like getting outside and taking a walk to lift your mood on a bad day. It's important to strive for both big goals that you'll achieve over a lifetime and small goals that you can cross off your list in a single day. Not only will it make life feel more comfortable like you know what you're doing a bit better, but it will also drive away feelings of hopelessness or lack of purpose because you are setting a purpose for yourself. Your own purpose is decided by no one but you. You can make anything you want of it. Just take that purpose and let it shine until the world knows just who you are."

A teary smile crept over Mom's face as she reached across the table, encasing my paws in hers with a soft squeeze. For a moment, she held onto my paws as they rested motionless on the table, but after a pause she withdrew, her eyes flicking to glance up at the clock on the wall.

"Let's see, do we have much time yet?" Mom murmured to herself, examining the clock. I raised my head to discover that it was just a couple ticks past seven-thirty, which meant I was supposed to leave two minutes ago. "Ooh, I suppose not. I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time, honey. Hurry along and get ready for work now. You might be a bit late today, but I'm sure they'll understand."

I'd finally managed to blink back the rest of my drowsiness as I abandoned the table to finish preparing for work, carrying my new books along with me to drop off on my desk in my bedroom. I caught a glimpse of the Toy Day tree in the corner of my living room on my way back through the hallway as it now glittered with holiday lights—Mom must have turned them on while bringing out the gifts—And sent dashes of colorful glows against the few wrapped extra gifts that sat underneath it to be opened on the twenty-fifth. I left my books waiting in a stack on the surface of my desk, checked in the mirror propped up beside my door that I looked decently presentable, collected my briefcase and puffy coat, and headed out the door.

Darkness clouded the morning sky as I shuffled through fresh snow, bundled in my bulky coat and tightly gripping the handle of my briefcase as it swung at my side with every step. I barely had the time for goodbyes as I had rushed myself out the door of the house in order to try and make it to work on time. Mom had tried for a last word as I was on my way out the door, fussing with my untidy hair, asking me if there was anything special I wanted to do for my special day, and if I thought of anything to let her know quickly. In a blur, those memories were already in the past, and now I was here on my walk.

The frigid air nipped at my cheeks and paws as I progressed on the walk. Clouds were sneaking through the dim sky above me on my way, a clear sign that sunny skies were not in the near future, and maybe more snow was coming instead. That was the usual for the midwinter season, but the twentieth of December was not a day I considered usual. I couldn't see my routine changing in terms of customer interaction, but I couldn't help but wonder if my day would feel different otherwise. Likely, it was selfish to expect an entire celebration, though I would have settled for acknowledgment. A small gathering with the thought of a special occurrence was significantly more appealing than a bustling party.

These thoughts brought me all the way to the doors of Happy Home. I pushed my way into the building, shrugging off the chill of the outside air, and had arrived at eight o'clock sharp. I slipped my coat from my shoulders as I ventured through the empty building, or rather one that seemed to be, and hung it over my arm as I ascended the stairs to the second floor to reach my office and settle in.

My office window was illustrated with the elaborate winter frost. I dumped my coat in a heap underneath my desk, set my briefcase beside my chair, and took a seat at last, easing into the workday that lay ahead of me. Solitude wrapped around the room as I clicked the mouse to the right of the computer, sending the screen to life prompting my log-in information just like any other day, and I signed in to begin the day.

08:06

Fri, Dec 20

Once I had accessed my account, I proceeded to launch the official document which held the draft for my December progress report. I had abandoned it at a few sentences past the seventeenth page yesterday morning before Open Advisory, which had reached the length range for eligibility to be submitted, but I had a couple more topics I had in mind to visit before I would be finished for the month. My gaze flickered between the minutes crawling by on the clock at the bottom of the screen and the text in front of me as I scrolled through the pages, scanning through the writing to help resurface the idea of where I planned to start, and soon found myself at the bottom of the report once again. I could already feel the words burning from my paws to be typed into the keyboard by the time I arrived at my last update, and so I got to work.

I didn't have much work set out for myself, so sweeping towards the end was as smooth as a summer breeze. Once I was typing, the words kept flowing, and a sense glimmered in the back of my mind like I was writing a story, the story of the progress of my work. Eventually, I had stopped checking back on the clock as time became meaningless and I absorbed myself in my work, stretching out the wave of productivity in hopes to reach the end and finish early. Halfway through the nineteenth page, I had finally run short of updates to take note of.

The day had just begun, and I had already done so much. I composed a brief conclusion to the report, finalizing edits to the document and reviewing it yet another type for typos or grammatical errors before I sent it off to be printed. I would need to pick it up from the printer before I would head off to Open Advisory at nine.

I snuck a glance at the clock at the bottom of the screen to see how much time I would have left to myself and found that it was only seventeen minutes after eight. I had some time to collect myself and mentally prepare myself for the crowd that would await me in less than an hour. I eased rising tension in my back from sitting in the same place for too long with a wide stretch, though the moment I dropped my arms back to my sides, an abrupt knock on the office door and the sight of Lyle on the other side snatched my attention.

Lyle ducked through the doorway without an answer from me, propping the door open with his arm as he entered as both of his paws were full. One of his paws gripped the handle of a white mug filled generously with pale-colored coffee and the other clutched both a small square wrapped gift and a brownie in a plastic container.

"Good morning, Digby," Lyle greeted me, almost struggling to balance everything he held with him as he carried them to my desk. The door swung shut after him. "I brought you some things. I wasn't sure if you had made coffee yet, so I brought you a cup. I also brought you a gift for your special day as well as a little treat I bought for you on the way to work."

Lyle first set down the mug of coffee next to my computer mouse, slowly as to not slosh the liquid onto the desk, and stacked the gift over the treat beside it.

"Now, it isn't much, but I hope you like it. A day like this is meant to be memorable," Lyle said as he withdrew, standing at his full height to peer down at me behind his thick glasses. "If you need anything, let me know. I'll get it for you."

"Thank you," I said.

"Sure, no problem. I'll get going so you can eat in peace and I'll stop annoying you," Lyle told me. The way he poked at humor wasn't with a smile, since a genuine smile was rare for him at all, but I caught the familiar touch of his teasing tone of his jokes. "Happy birthday."

The conversation had been short as Lyle cleared out of the room again without another word. I took a long sip of the coffee that had been brought to me, the milky flavor swirling to my tongue with the first drink and feeling the warmth swell in my chest. I left the gift on the end of my desk as I popped open the plastic container and removed the brownie inside, delighting in a bite every few minutes as the contents of my coffee mug continued to thin out.

I finished my brownie with a fair amount of coffee remaining. I tossed the plastic container into the trash bin behind my briefcase before I turned my focus to the gift. It was tightly wrapped with a royal blue wrapping bound by strips of tape, but I managed to peel the paper away with a minute of effort. Inside, I found a cardboard box with a lid, which I picked off to examine what lay inside.

What I first found was not the gift, but instead a folded note. I carefully withdrew the note, unfolding it to discover that it was a written message from Lyle himself.

Thought of you

I set aside the note, peering down into the box to find the gift. It was a miniature token of sorts, silver but too dull in color to catch the glow of the lights and resting on a bed of cotton. Elegant curved lines were engraved into the edges, outlining a decoration of tiny stars, a crescent moon, and text that etched into the surface in a neat and graceful manner.

With all the

stars to guide me,

The brightest one

is mine.

I plucked the token from the cotton, holding it in my paw to observe it. It was most certainly a poetic sentence, though I couldn't confidently say I knew what it meant, or why it reminded Lyle of me. My eyes drifted along the astral decorations for a moment, following the flowing lines along the sides, and I positioned it against the side of the box to allow myself a glance at it from time to time.

I finished my coffee within the next several minutes and shut off my computer to save power. I excused myself from my office to retrieve my printed report and brew a refill of coffee. The eighth hour slowly slipped away from me as the morning opened and sunlight began to dance over the polished wood floor, and I stole the opportunity to pin together my report for submission while sipping at my second cup of coffee. I was gulping down another sip of cooling coffee when a second knock, this one more gentle, struck the door.

I lowered my mug as the door inched open, giving way for Lottie's cautious entrance. "Hello," she said cheerfully, stepping through the doorway to shut the door after her, and it was as she was turned away that I caught sight of a sheet of paper in her paw. "Happy birthday. Has your day been well?"

"It's been great, actually," I admitted as she turned back to face me, advancing forward to stand before my desk. "I can tell that it's going to be a good day."

"I really hope that it will be," Lottie replied. Her gaze strayed across the array of new materials on my desk before falling upon the small, open box with the token propped up against it. "I can see that my uncle has been here. He found that token weeks in advance and wanted to surprise you but purchased the brownie during the walk here earlier today."

My eyes found the token again. He must have considered it with careful thought if he had picked it out weeks in advance.

"I didn't buy you a gift this year," Lottie confessed when my gaze flicked back up to her face. She still clutched the sheet of paper between her paws. "I felt like, with such a special occasion, I wanted to give you something a bit more personal. I decided to create something for you instead with my own two paws. I've been working on it for the past few days trying to get it right. I'm not very skilled at writing poetry, but I thought I would step out of my comfort zone a bit for the occasion."

"A poem?" I echoed. I outstretched my paw to take the sheet of paper from her as she reached it out to offer it to me.

"Mm-hmm. I hope you like it." After handing off the sheet to me, Lottie gripped her paws together and dropped her gaze to the floor. She was waiting for me to begin reading, and quite nervously so—This was a big step for her. She didn't often share something she created with me.

I held the poem in front of me, eyes jumping over the tidy writing on the page to let the words sink in.

I wish to make this special day

A shield that keeps the dark away.

With a jubilant celebration underway,

Time is key, let us stray from delay.

Today we treasure eighteen great years

And heal from all that gave us tears.

If we keep close what we hold dear,

Then may this day be filled with cheer.

So may this day be as special to you

As the wishes you seek that I hope to pursue.

For if it was my wish waiting to come true,

I'd spend all of my special days with you.

"I'd say you do have a talent in poetry," I told her, raising my head to look at her, and she did the same to meet my gaze. "This is really sweet. Thank you, Lottie."

"Do you like it?" Lottie inquired.

"Definitely. I think it's great," I replied, pressing the sheet into a careful fold. I searched the desk for an empty space to leave the poem for when I would leave for Open Advisory in twenty minutes, settling on the strip of wood in the back near Lottie.

"That makes me feel better about trying something new," Lottie said. Her focus lingered on me for a stretch of seconds longer, a bright smile playing on her face, before she set off into motion to make her way around the desk. I started to wheel my chair around to face her, but she was already throwing her arms around me, colliding my chin with her shoulder as she gave me a clinging hug.

And that was where we remained, at least for about a minute. I settled into the warmth of her embrace, disregarding the awkwardness between the current height difference as I locked my arms around her. For a while, it felt like it was just the two of us in the entire world, a world of our own, together in each other's arms. I wasn't too eager to let go, but we needed to move on eventually.

Eventually, I felt Lottie withdraw, so I dropped my arms as she straightened up again. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Happy birthday," she said again, departing from my desk to steal her way back across the room.

The door fell shut in Lottie's exit as I found myself reaching for the poem again. I unfolded it once more, reading through it another time as if reimmersing myself on a journey already taken. I allowed myself a few more seconds to read before setting aside the poem, raising my coffee mug to take another sip.

I nearly spit out the sip I was taking with the thud of the door swinging open again without a knock as a warning. I lowered my mug so quickly that the liquid sloshed over onto the hem of my sleeve, though it wasn't warm enough to burn, in time to see Lottie emerge swiftly into the room again like she had remembered one last thing she wanted to say.

"Digby, are you doing anything tonight?" Lottie asked.