I had no idea where her confidence came from. When I tried to ask, she cut me off with a warning look and told me to focus on choosing her outfit, not questioning her.
So I searched every shop on that street, determined to find something perfect, but nothing felt right. We had already turned back toward the station when a shop that had been closed earlier finally rolled up its shutters. I drifted toward the window for a quick glance, and there it was, displayed on a single mannequin: a beautiful white gown, so much like the one she wore the day she first walked through the orphanage doors.
The moment I saw it, I knew I would buy it no matter the price. And I did, spending every last coin I had saved.
Sophia slipped into the changing room to check the size. When she returned, she was back in her usual clothes. I asked to see the gown on her, but she only smiled and said, "Sometimes you need to wait for memories to turn precious and last longer." Her smile was so bright and sure that all my questions dissolved.
A few days later, Arthur brought me to a massive flat, easily ten times the size of our home. He told me he was buying it. We met the owners of the flat that weekend and used every bit of savings we had to make the purchase. Then he asked me to keep it secret from Sophia.
"It will be her second graduation gift," he said. "But don't ask about the first."
Later, her graduation day arrived. Sophia's speech was a blur to me, the words slipping away even now, but I remember my eyes stinging as she spoke, my throat tightening with every sentence. The moment she stepped down from the stage, Arthur told her to follow him. She refused with a stubborn shake of her head, so he scooped her up and carried her straight to the cab he had waiting. I hurried in after them.
All three of us rode to the new flat, and when we revealed that we owned it together, she burst into pure joy. She jumped, she twirled, she laughed like a child finally given a long-promised gift. Arthur gently settled her down, then lined us up shoulder to shoulder. He slipped concert tickets for her favorite band into her hand along with some money. After that, he told us to go on a date and to dress nicely for it.
Only then did I understand: the flat was her second graduation gift. The first was the date Arthur was giving us. While I was still trying to process everything, Sophia broke into tears and threw herself into Arthur's arms, half laughing, half sobbing.
When she finally calmed, she pushed the tickets and money back into his hands."You go with me," she said. "That is my graduation wish."
Then she turned to me and added, "Tomorrow, the two of us will go on a date."
Arthur said nothing. He simply followed her as she led him out of the flat. I watched them leave, unable to move. Moments later, the door burst open again and Sophia rushed back to me. She hugged me so tightly it knocked the breath from my chest.
"We should make tomorrow the best date in the world," she whispered. Then she kissed me just above my lips, snatched her wallet from the table, and ran out again."
Indra paused the story here. He picked up the photo Obero had placed on Isha's stomach, held it for a moment, then studied it.
"For Sophia," he murmured, "her brother is half of her, and I am her other half. She cannot think of us as unequal, so she gives us the same priority. That is why she wanted to spend that day with him. She would have the next day with me."
He slipped the photo back into his pocket without waking Isha, then continued.
"After they left, I started planning our first date. We had already made most of the plans weeks before her graduation, but that evening I went through them again, polishing little details. By the time I finished the revisions and made a few reservations, it was already six in the evening. I had nothing left to do except wait.
They still were not back by eight. I lost patience, so I went to our old house, figured I could at least start packing things for the move.
As I packed, the memories came flooding in. Every laugh we shared, every cry, every nightmare, every dream, every struggle, all of it lived in those walls. While I worked, something caught my eye, a cardboard box tucked under the bed, hidden between others. I had never seen it before. It looked new, so I opened it.
Inside was the outfit Sophia had chosen for me for our first date. Under it lay the dress I chose for her. But her dress was different. It was not in its original packaging, and someone had stitched parts of it by hand. It even looked prettier than it had on the mannequin.
Beneath it were several magazines. They had bookmarks in them. When I flipped to the first marked page, it was a guide on how to sew. The next bookmarked page was smeared with dried blood. The ones after that had blood too, every one of them.
When I lifted the magazines, I found a small box at the corner. Inside it were dozens of used bandages, each stained with blood and each obviously worn for less than a day.
I began crying. I pictured Sophia, who cannot even slide a thread into a needle, sitting alone and forcing herself to stitch that dress, pricking her fingers again and again, bleeding but refusing to quit. And I imagined how hard she worked to hide those cuts from us.
I did not want to ruin her effort, so I put everything back exactly as I found it. I walked to the door to leave, but something white lay under it, wedged against the frame. A sealed envelope, with my name written on it.
Inside was my joining letter for this lab. I had dreamed of working here since I was a child, ever since Mom and Dad told us stories about their research. That dream was the reason I never quit studying, no matter how often I wanted to when I saw Arthur breaking his back for us. Holding that letter, I was so excited I forgot to lock the door. I just ran.