The Sky Was once Wool
Chapter 1
“Sleepyhead, wake up... honey pie,” Mrs. Carter’s voice came gently, her hand shaking Evie’s shoulder with just enough persistence to pull her from the edges of sleep.
The small stereo on the desk had been playing softly all night, the faint hum of classical strings now abruptly silenced as Mrs. Carter turned it off. The room was cozy, with the distinct charm of youth and simplicity—a few scattered notes on the desk, a faintly floral fragrance lingering in the air, and a pink-tinted bed that barely seemed big enough for Evie to stretch out fully. It was the kind of space that spoke of dreams, of possibilities still unfolding.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Mrs. Carter called again, this time with a playful poke to Evie’s cheek. “I told you, you’re doing too much for your age. But would you listen? Of course not. So here I am, left with no choice but to wake you up myself.”
Evie groaned, pulling the blanket over her head in protest. “Hmm... I’m still sleeping,” she mumbled, her voice muffled but tinged with a faint smile.
Mrs. Carter chuckled softly, her warmth filling the room like sunlight creeping through the curtains. “I’ve always wanted to take care of you, you know. I just don’t want you burning yourself out trying to do everything. You’re still young, Evie.”
“I don’t want to be a burden,” Evie murmured, peeking out from under the blanket with a sheepish look.
“Don’t be silly,” Mrs. Carter replied, brushing a stray auburn strand from Evie’s face. “You’re never a burden to me. Never. Do you hear me?”
Evie sat up slowly, her green eyes still heavy with sleep but softened by the sincerity in Mrs. Carter’s tone.
“I know I’m not your biological mother,” Mrs. Carter continued, her voice quieter now, filled with an earnestness that reached deep. “But if I could be, I would. Because you... you’re special, Evie. The kind of girl who lights up a room without even trying. The kind of girl with the kindest heart and the most beautiful smile. Don’t you ever forget that.”
For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the faint chirping of birds outside. Evie blinked, swallowing the lump in her throat, and managed a small smile.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Mrs. Carter,” she said, her voice light but her gaze full of gratitude.
“Flattery won’t get you out of breakfast duty,” Mrs. Carter teased, ruffling Evie’s hair as she stood up. You know, you never change your song,” Mrs. Carter remarked, a hint of curiosity lacing her words as she folded her arms, leaning slightly against the edge of Evie’s bed. “Why do you love listening to Era Uma Vez every night? Is there something you’re dealing with that I don’t know about?”
Evie smiled faintly, her lips curling into a thoughtful expression as she tied her wavy auburn hair into a loose bun. “You know, Mom,” she began, her voice light yet laced with nostalgia, “have you forgotten those times I used to think the sky was made of wool?”
Mrs. Carter chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with warmth. “Oh, how could I forget? You were so convinced, too.”
“It’s fun to think about now,” Evie said, her voice tinged with a wistful humor. “And musing at the same time... Life isn’t everything we thought it was when we were young, is it?”
Mrs. Carter tilted her head, a fond smile playing on her lips. “Hmm, there you go again, little thinker. You’d better gather yourself before the other girls come in screaming.”
Just as the words left her mouth, the orphanage burst into life. Shouts and laughter echoed down the halls as young girls hurriedly got dressed, while older ones helped tie sashes and comb unruly hair. The younger children chased one another, their giggles filling the air, while the caregivers scurried between rooms, juggling playful protests and morning hugs.
“See what I mean?” Mrs. Carter said with a laugh, shaking her head as she straightened the blankets on Evie’s bed.
Evie stood and stretched, glancing toward the window where the sun streamed through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow over the modest room. Despite its simplicity, the space radiated warmth—a small corner of the world where dreams were allowed to grow.
“Welcome to Caso Orphanage,” Evie mused under her breath, her gaze sweeping across the bustling hallway beyond her door. It was a place of noisy chaos and quiet comfort, a home where she had been nurtured and groomed into the young woman she was becoming.
Mrs. Carter patted her shoulder gently, her eyes soft with affection. “You’ve always been different, Evie. Don’t ever let that spark dim, okay?”
“I won’t,” Evie promised, slipping on her shoes and reaching for the small locket resting on her bedside table. The blue stone glinted in the sunlight, a tiny but constant reminder of who she was and where she came from.
With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the lively corridor, ready to face another day in the only home she’d ever known.
“Hey, little pumpkin…” A giggle broke through the morning hum as one of the younger children mimicked Mrs. Carter’s earlier nickname for Evie.
Evie turned, eyebrows raised, a smile tugging at her lips. “Little what now?” she teased, her tone light and playful.
“Pumpkin!” the kid repeated, giggling louder.
Evie shook her head with a chuckle, watching the scene unfold before her. Despite the chaotic energy, this was her favorite part of the day. She was the first child ever dropped off at Caso Orphanage, and while she often shrank back in the outside world, here, within these familiar walls, she was the big sister to every single kid.
“Little muffin!” another child chimed in, mispronouncing the word and causing a ripple of laughter to spread among the group.
Evie’s green eyes softened as she noticed three of the younger ones huddled in the corner, each clutching slices of bread, clearly reluctant to share. She crouched down, her voice calm but steady. “I’ve told you guys a hundred times—learn how to share. We have more than enough for everyone, okay?”
“But—” one of the kids began, only to be cut off by Evie’s knowing look.
“Do you want me to stop your breakfast because you can’t listen?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
The three children exchanged guilty glances, their innocent eyes widening. Then, in unison, they echoed, “We’re sorry, Big Sis.”
Evie smiled softly, ruffling their hair one by one. “That’s better. Now go on, share like the champs I know you are.”
As the kids scampered off to the long wooden table, Mrs. Carter’s voice rang out, warm and full of pride. “You see, Evie? These kids always listen to you. You have a gift, child.”
Evie stood, brushing imaginary dust off her hands. “It’s not a gift, Mrs. Carter. They’re just... kids. They’ll listen to anyone who’s patient enough.”
Mrs. Carter approached, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Oh, don’t you start downplaying yourself, young lady. You juggle taking care of these little ones, schooling, and two jobs on top of that. You’re too young to be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
Evie shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Someone has to, don’t they?”
Mrs. Carter’s expression softened, her voice dipping into a gentler tone. “Evie, you don’t have to do everything. You’re already doing enough just by being here. Don’t burn yourself out before you even get the chance to enjoy life.”
Evie glanced over at the children, now chattering and passing around butter for their bread, the morning sunlight filtering through the orphanage windows. “I hear you, Mrs. Carter,” she said quietly, but the faraway look in her eyes hinted at an unspoken determination.
Mrs. Carter sighed, pulling Evie into a quick hug. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. Go to school and come back home safely, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Evie replied, her voice laced with playful obedience.
And with that, she grabbed her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the door, leaving the warmth of the orphanage behind as the noise of the bustling campus began to creep into her mind.
The road stretched out before Evie like a thread weaving her current life to the distant comfort of the Caso Orphanage. Though the bus stop was just a few minutes away, Evie often preferred to walk—her morning walks had become a cherished ritual. It wasn’t just about the fresh air or the quiet streets; it was a time to think, to connect with herself, and to reflect on the fragments of her past that Mrs. Carter had lovingly pieced together for her.
She kicked a small pebble absentmindedly, her thoughts swirling like the cool morning breeze. The story of her arrival at Caso replayed in her mind as it often did during these walks.
Mrs. Carter’s voice rang in her memory, as vivid as if she were speaking beside her. “Your mother left you, yes, but who’s to say why? I’ve always believed she had her reasons. A mother doesn’t forget her child, Evie, not in her heart.”
Evie had heard the story so many times she could narrate it herself. It was a cold winter morning when Mrs. Carter had first found her. Her husband had just left for the countryside to visit family and inspect a property they were considering buying. Mrs. Carter had driven down to the quiet building that would later become Caso Orphanage—back then, it was merely an office space for her logistics business.
“I had just parked,” Mrs. Carter had said, “when I saw it. A beautiful, furry shawl with tiny yellow dots on it, lying right at the entrance. At first, I thought someone had forgotten their things. But then... I heard a tiny cry. Oh, Evie, you were so small, with those big, curious eyes and that wavy brown hair. My heart... it wasn’t mine anymore.”
Evie could almost hear the softness in Mrs. Carter’s voice as she retold the story. “I called my husband immediately. He drove back as fast as he could. We were both shocked—angry even. We’d prayed for a miracle of a child for so long, and there you were, left like... like an afterthought. To this day, I get annoyed just thinking about it. The only thing your mother left with you was that locket.”
Instinctively, Evie’s fingers reached for the small pendant resting on her chest, the smooth metal cool against her skin. It was the only tangible link she had to a woman she couldn’t understand—couldn’t forgive. What kind of mother leaves her one-month-old child in the freezing cold? What could justify such a choice?
Lost in her thoughts, Evie quickened her pace, determined to make it to school on time. But her pondering was interrupted by the deep rumble of an engine. A sleek Maserati sped past her, its glossy black exterior gleaming under the sun.
Her eyes followed the car for a moment, her brow furrowing. Why do people buy such extravagant things? she wondered. Does anyone really need a car that costs more than an entire house? She shook her head, a small, amused smile creeping onto her lips. The world, with all its contradictions and complexities, never failed to puzzle her. And yet, in all its messiness, it also intrigued her.
