Just Why

The Harrington estate basked in the soft glow of a summer afternoon, golden light pouring through the tall windows, illuminating the vast living room where two young girls played on the plush rug. Delphinia, barely ten, sat cross-legged, diligently working on a puzzle, her dark curls cascading over her shoulders. Beside her, Lyvia, was surrounded by colored pencils and an open sketchbook, her small fingers smudged with bright hues.

Delphinia glanced sideways at her sister's drawing—a clumsy but vibrant depiction of a horse—and smiled. "That looks great, Lyvia. You're getting really good at this."

Lyvia giggled, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. "Daddy says I'm the best artist he's ever seen!"

The mention of their father made Delphinia's smile waver for a second, but she quickly masked it. "He's right. You're amazing."