At ten years old, Eloise already understood the magic of Saturdays.
Saturdays meant no shrieking alarm clocks demanding attention before the sun rose. No scratchy uniforms, and No rushing, hurried breakfasts. Saturdays meant family plans and laughter and the promise of something fun waiting just beyond the front door. It was the weekly reset button.
That morning, she patiently sat on the edge of the living-room rug already meticulously dressed—a bright yellow sundress, pristine white sneakers, her dark-brown hair pulled back with a ribbon she'd chosen carefully because it felt like a day that deserved attention and care. Her familiar necklace rested against her collarbone, the small heart pendant warm and comforting.
