The Hart mansion buzzed with activity that morning. Two sleek black SUVs gleamed in the driveway, their engines idling softly as uniformed drivers stood ready. The house staff moved briskly in and out, carrying last-minute parcels and trays of refreshments for the journey.
At the far end of the drive, a modest silver sedan pulled up. Joyce, Ava's mother, stepped out — still in her work uniform, her tired eyes scanning the grandeur before her. She had come to take her daughter home, but instead, she found Adrian Hart himself stepping out from the front entrance.
"Good morning, Joyce," Adrian greeted warmly, his deep voice carrying authority without effort. "You're just in time. The girls are coming with us to my mother's birthday celebration."
Joyce blinked in surprise. "Ava too?"
"Yes," Adrian said simply, as though it were already settled. "She's my daughter's favourite person. Wouldn't be the same without her."
Joyce could only nod, still taken aback.
And then — the moment that turned every head.
From the tall double doors emerged Claire Hart, her poise unmistakable. She was the picture of elegance, her dress a soft ivory silk that caught the morning light, her hair swept into a flawless chignon. But it wasn't just her presence that made people pause, it was the sight of her holding the girls.
In her left hand, little Ava, transformed from the shy neighbour girl into something out of a fairy tale. The soft princess gown flowed around her like spun sugar, her curls pinned with tiny pearl clips. In her right hand, Isabella, dressed in the princess outfit her dad had selected.
The contrast between them was striking… and somehow, it worked.
Joyce's breath caught. "Oh… my goodness…" she whispered. She could barely recognise her own child, Ava's eyes sparkled, cheeks glowing, as though she had stepped into a dream.
The moment their eyes met, Ava let go of Claire's hand and dashed toward her mother. "Mummy!" she squealed, hugging her tight. Joyce bent down, unable to stop the tears pricking her eyes.
Behind them, Isabella lingered for just a second, watching the reunion. Only when she saw Ava step toward the waiting SUV did she move forward herself, climbing in right after her, just as she had planned.
The drivers closed the doors. Inside the mansion, the noise faded, and the air shifted to that quiet stillness that only came when the Hart family was on the move.
Today was Granny's birthday, and everyone knew Isabella was her favourite grandchild. The little girl sat straighter in her seat, her heart beating faster. Whatever the day brought, she knew Granny's arms would be wide open for her.
The black Hart SUV stopped in front of Granny's huge mansion. The tall white pillars, gold balconies, and colourful gardens made the place look like a royal palace. Guests were already arriving in shiny luxury cars, dressed in their best. Laughter and chatter filled the warm air as workers rushed to park the cars.
It wasn't just any day — Granny was turning eighty, and she wanted this birthday to be the biggest one yet.
When the Hart family stepped out of their car, people turned to look. Adrian got out first in his dark suit, then lifted Isabella from the seat. She wore the pastel princess dress he had chosen for her, it shimmered in the sunlight, and a little crown sat perfectly on her neat curls.
Claire followed, holding Ava by the shoulder. Ava's soft princess dress swirled when she walked, and tiny pearl clips shone in her hair. She looked shy, but Claire gave her a warm smile.
Both Grannies — Adrian's mother and Claire's mother — stood at the big entrance, smiling wide.
"There's my little princess!" Adrian's mother called out happily, holding Isabella's hand.
"She's even prettier than the last time I saw her," Claire's mother said, brushing Isabella's cheek.
From the moment they went inside, the two women proudly showed Isabella to almost everyone. She was the Hart family's little princess, and people couldn't stop admiring her.
But through all the attention, Isabella never let go of Ava's hand. She held on tight, almost like she was afraid to lose her.
"This is my best friend, Ava," Isabella told anyone who would listen. "She's the prettiest girl here."
The two girls walked through the big hall together, one the celebrated princess of the Hart family, the other the shy neighbour, but next to each other, they looked like they belonged in the same story.
The grand ballroom was filled with the smell of fresh flowers and the soft sound of a live band playing in the corner. Waiters moved between guests with trays of sparkling drinks. At the center of it all stood a massive white-and-gold cake, taller than some of the children there, with the number "80" shining at the top in gold.
Granny, dressed in a long silver gown, stood with a microphone in her hand. Her eyes sparkled as she looked around at the crowd.
"Eighty years," she began, her voice steady but warm. "I have been blessed with a big family, wonderful friends, and a life full of love. But nothing has brought me more joy than seeing my children and grandchildren grow. And today, I feel even more blessed… because I get to share this day with all of you."
The room was filled with clapping. Isabella stood close to Granny, holding her hand. She felt proud, but her eyes kept wandering to the far side of the room.
Ava was there… talking to a boy about their age. Isabella's chest tightened. She didn't like it. She didn't like it one bit.
When Granny asked her to help cut the cake, she smiled for the cameras, but in her head, she was counting down the seconds until it was over. Every time the knife went down, she glanced toward Ava. The boy was still there. Still smiling at her.
Finally, the cake was cut, and the guests cheered. Isabella didn't even wait for her slice. She dashed across the hall, slipping between long dresses and polished shoes until she stood right between Ava and the boy.
"What do you want?" she asked sharply, looking straight at him.
The boy blinked. "I like her dress. She's pretty. I just want to be friends."
"She's mine," Isabella said without hesitation. "And I don't share what's mine."
Ava's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and embarrassment. She quickly reached for Isabella's hand.
"Come on," she whispered, pulling her away before she caused a scene in the middle of Granny's party.
Isabella followed, still holding Ava's hand tight, her cheeks warm. The boy was forgotten—for now.
But they weren't as alone as they thought.
From a few steps behind, Adrian had seen everything. He froze, confusion flickering across his face as he replayed his daughter's words in his head. She's mine? Why was Isabella so fiercely protective… possessive, even… over her friend?
"Adrian?" Claire's soft voice pulled him back. She slipped to his side, following his line of sight just in time to see the girls disappearing into the crowd.
"What was that?" Adrian muttered, his brow furrowed. "Why would she say something like that?"
Claire's stomach knotted. She already knew. She had always known. But instead of confirming his suspicion, she touched his arm gently, forcing a smile. "They're children. You're overthinking it. Let them be."
Adrian gave a small nod, though his eyes lingered on the spot where the girls had gone. The unease wouldn't leave him. He tried to let Claire's words soothe him, but the puzzle pieces in his head refused to fit.
And as the music swelled again, he started moving, determined to find his daughter and her best friend once more.