“The Bracelet, the Rain, and the Promise”
Sheets of cold, heavy rain swept through the city, turning it gloomy. Janet was staring at nothing in her black sedan’s tinted glass when she noticed a young girl, perhaps ten years old, standing by herself in the rain, holding two wailing babies to her bosom.
For a moment, Janet believed she was seeing hallucinations. The girl, however, looked up.
Their eyes met through the rain, fear and desperation against emptiness and luxury.
Silently, the girl said, “Please help us.”
The light grew green. The moment vanished in the storm as Janet’s driver pushed forward.
In her marble and gold palace, Janet was unable to sleep that night. Her hollow eyes plagued the girl.
Her daughter’s eyes were the first she had seen in twelve years.
Isabelle became pregnant at the age of 17.
Janet had screamed unspeakable words out of pride and rage: “You’ve ruined everything.” Leave my home. I wish to see you no more.
Isabelle was gone, too.
Janet looked for years, but there was nothing in the police reports or private investigators.
She eventually reassured herself that Isabelle was okay, somewhere, and going about her life.
The
By morning, Janet had made up her mind.
She was determined to find that girl.
For the first time in years, she got back on the road and drove herself.
There was nothing there. No infants, no children, just silence and puddles.
Just as she was ready to go, she heard a baby’s weak scream coming from an alley.
Janet bolted.
The small girl sat there next to a dumpster. She attempted to warm the infants with her own body, her hair stuck to her face and her tiny hands trembling.
Weakly,
“Dear?” Janet’s voice was quiet.
The young lady froze. “Please don’t do us harm.”
Janet did not hesitate to kneel in the muck. No, sweetheart. I’m here to assist.
There was a flash of recognition in the girl’s eyes. “The woman from the car is you.”
“Yes. I then returned.
Janet purchased coffee, warm water, and meals in a neighboring tiny café.
The owner looked, but he stopped after glancing at the $100 bill.
She saw the girl tear the bread into pieces, bathe it in water, and then feed the babies first—patient hands, little bites. She only tasted the food herself when both babies were satisfied.
Janet felt her heart break.
Isabelle had shown the ducks at the park years ago the same kindness, demanding that they eat before her.
As Isabelle had previously put it, “Love means they eat first, Mommy.”
Janet’s tears were swallowed. “My dear, what is your name?”
“It’s Roselene,” the girl muttered.
“What about the babies?”
“My sister and brother.”
“Your parents are where?”
Roselene’s gaze lowered. “Lost.”
Janet took them home.
Her employees let out a gasp as the three soiled kids walked into the marble lobby, but Janet’s cold gaze silenced the rumors.
She requested warm clothes, clean bedding, and baths.
Janet helped wash the babies and then left Roselene to have a bath by herself.
She heard soft sobs through the door, the kind that resulted from too much anguish for a body that was so small.
Janet remained silent. Sometimes you had to cry in private.
Roselene was clean and shaking when she came out, and Janet noticed that she had an old, worn silver bracelet on her wrist.
Then her heart stopped.
“How did you obtain that?” she muttered.
“It belonged to my mother,” Roselene muttered. “She gave it to me before she passed away.”
Janet flipped it over and traced the etching, “For my sweet angel,” with shaking fingertips. Mom, love.
Then her knees gave way. What name did your mother have?
Roselene was hesitant. “Isabelle.”
The earth swayed.
Sobbing, Janet drew the kid into her arms. “You are my granddaughter,” she stutteringly said.
“The little girl of my Isabelle.”
Roselene filled her in on everything that evening.
How the aggressive man had harmed Isabelle is described.
The story of how she gave birth to twins in a shelter while she was seven months pregnant and left.
How she had passed away three months prior—ill, coughing up blood, having been turned away from hospitals due to her inability to pay.
With a broken voice, Roselene murmured, “She died in an alley.” “Her hand was in mine.”
All Janet could say was, “Where was I? God, where had I gone?
The sense of guilt was oppressive.
The cold had killed her daughter while she slept on silk sheets.
Roselene sobbed as she added, “I assured her that I would look after the twins.” “I promised, even though I’m only ten.”
Janet cradled her granddaughter in her arms. With a furious tone, she declared, “You are no longer alone.” “Hear me out? You’re at home now. Indefinitely.
Janet changed her life during the next few days.
Guards were posted at each gate, doctors arrived, and attorneys prepared custody documents.
The infants, Emma and Ethan, were safely swaddled, fed, and cared for.
Roselene started school with private tutors and read books as if she were insatiably hungry.
Additionally, Janet created something new.
a nonprofit named after Isabelle to aid homeless moms and protect others from what happened to her daughter.
Laughter filled the mansion for the first time in twelve years.
However, shadows persisted.
The investigator called and said, “Ma’am, Joshua Savage, the twins’ father, has been questioning you. He reported a missing person. He is trying to locate them.
Janet’s blood became icy.
He had a history of violence, drug use, and jail time. He had a scar on his neck.
Isabelle had been afraid of this beast.
She doubled the security she felt. But fear still tormented her.
A few weeks later, a letter in Isabelle’s handwriting arrived.
One of her last letters before passing away:
“Hey Mom,
I’m out of here, if you’re reading.
Roselene and the twins need your protection.
Not out of love, but out of cruelty, he will come for them.
He goes by Joshua Savage. The scar on his neck is there.
Even though I ran, I still loved you.
Long ago, I forgave you.
I hope you’ll forgive yourself one day.
Always, Isabelle, love.
Janet held the letter against her chest and sobbed until her body trembled.
The calm didn’t last, though.
One day, as sunlight bathed the children’s play area, chaos broke out.
A crash. A shout. Shots.
Through the hedges rushed a towering guy with madness in his eyes and blood on his sleeve.
His neck scar was shining.
Savage Joshua.
“Found you,” he growled.
Janet moved forward, her arms out in front of Roselene.
You’re not going to take them.
“I own them!” He gave a yell. “She took them away from me!”
Janet responded, “That’s because you were a monster.” “And you continue to be.”
He sprang forward.
Without hesitation, she launched herself at him. Clattering across the stones, the cannon flew.
He slammed into her.
His hands clamped around her throat, and she fell, panting for oxygen.
He growled, “You ought to have avoided it.”
She became unable to see. Then Joshua fell, unconscious, followed by a cry and a crack.
With a bloodied baton in hand, the guard stood behind him.
Roselene sobbed as she ran to Janet. “Grandmother! I believed—I believed you—
Janet said in a hoarse whisper, “I’m okay.” “You’re secure. That is the only thing that counts.
Joshua Savage received a 30-year sentence in federal prison.
There would be no way out this time.
Janet’s bruises were still noticeable when she testified in court.
As he was carried away in chains, he gave her that same sly smile.
However, she looked him in the eye and whispered quietly, “You lost. My family is secure.
Months went by. The healing process started.
The twins became strong, laughing took the place of fear, and Roselene flourished in school.
Janet donated her wealth to the Isabelle Bennett Foundation, which supported clinics, shelters, and mother and child education initiatives.
She felt like she was redeeming every life she touched.
One spring afternoon, she took Roselene to Isabelle’s grave, now marked with white marble and etched phrases.
“Mother and beloved daughter, Isabelle Rose Bennett.” Her love endures.
“Hello, Mom,” Roselene said in a whisper while kneeling.
We’re all right now. Grandma looks after us. We’re content. I hope that’s clear for you.
Janet put a kind hand on her shoulder and murmured, “She does.” “And she’s pleased with you.”
The mansion was a hive of activity a year later.
Ethan turned two, as did Emma.
The air was filled with balloons, laughing, and the aroma of cake.
Frosting her cheek, Roselene raced up. “Grandma! Join us in blowing out the candles!
Janet came along.
The twins giggled as they tried to blow out the candles, but all they managed to do was scatter crumbs. Everyone chuckled.
Janet felt at peace for the first time in thirteen years—not quite enough, but enough.
She had gained a purpose after losing her daughter.
Janet had found love again in the eyes of a child who had previously stood by herself in the storm, after almost losing her soul.
Janet gazed up as the candles went out and muttered, “Thank you, Isabelle,” to the sky. I fulfilled my pledge.
THE END
