Vanessa vale
The morning began like any other.
Sunlight slipped through the kitchen curtains, falling across the breakfast table. Plates clinked. A kettle whistled softly in the background. Vanessa sat quietly, staring at her food.
Her mother placed another piece of bread on her plate.
Vanessa looked at the table.
What if this whole table just fell over?
She blinked.
It was a stupid thought.
Then—
CRASH.
The table tipped violently to one side.
Plates slid. Cups shattered against the floor. Vanessa's breakfast disappeared beneath the tablecloth as everything came tumbling down.
For a second, nobody moved.
Her mother stared at the fallen table.
Vanessa stared too.
Her eyes remained fixed on the food scattered across the floor.
Her mother sighed, crouched down, and began picking up what she could.
"Well," she muttered, "there goes breakfast."
Vanessa said nothing.
She couldn't.
Her eyes remained on the table.
There was something wrong with it.
Not the broken plates.
Not the spilled food.
The thought.
She had thought it.
And then it happened.
The doorbell rang.
Her mother looked toward the hallway.
"That must be Miss Teena."
A moment later, their neighbour appeared at the door carrying a bright pink box.
"Macarons," Miss Teena announced cheerfully. "I made too many."
The smell of sugar and vanilla immediately filled the room.
"Come in, Teena," Vanessa's mother said.
They moved to the dining room, where the fallen table had been pushed back into place.
Miss Teena sat down.
Vanessa watched the box.
Her mother noticed.
"Go on," she said. "Open your lunchbox."
Vanessa pulled the little box toward herself.
She opened it.
Her mother's eyes immediately lit up.
She smiled.
Then she nodded.
Once.
Twice.
Don't.
Vanessa understood.
Don't think about it.
Don't imagine anything.
Especially not—
What if one of them flew across the room?
A macaron suddenly shot out of the box.
Vanessa gasped.
It flew straight across the table.
But before it could hit anyone, a hand caught it.
James stood in the doorway.
Her younger brother grinned.
He looked at the macaron in his hand.
Then at Vanessa.
"Oh."
He took a bite.
"So she has the spell too."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Give it back."
James laughed.
"You made it fly."
"I didn't!"
"You thought it."
"So?"
"So?" James repeated, delighted. "Mom!"
Their mother closed her eyes.
"James."
He pointed at Vanessa.
"She has it."
"I said, James."
"Mom, she has the spell!"
Vanessa shoved him.
He shoved her back.
"Both of you!" their mother snapped.
Silence.
She looked from James to Vanessa.
Then at the ruined breakfast.
Then at the macarons.
"This isn't a game."
James sat down, still smiling.
"But our family is so genius."
"Shush, James. Sit and eat."
"But—"
"With your hands."
James frowned.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Their mother pointed at the food.
"No powers. No tricks. No flying food. Eat with your hands like normal children."
James reluctantly picked up his food.
Vanessa lowered her eyes.
Her mother watched them both carefully.
For a few seconds, everything seemed normal again.
Then her mother quietly said,
"And leave this magical power of yours alone."
Vanessa looked up.
Her mother wasn't smiling anymore.
