Patience found Peace in a corner of the living room, sitting cross-legged beside a deflated balloon, her brows furrowed and her lower lip trembling. A few children passed by, laughing with their party packs, and Patience immediately understood what was going on.
"Peace," she called softly as she approached, kneeling beside her.
The little girl turned her head away, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"What's wrong?"
"My gift bag is missing," she sniffled. "Patrick got his. Everyone else too. Mine's not there anymore."
Patience wrapped her arms around her sister, pulling her into a gentle hug. "Hey, birthday girl. Look at me."
Peace blinked up at her with wet eyes.
"You're ten now, remember? That's double digits. You're officially a big girl."
Peace looked down at her shoes, still sulking. "Big girls don't lose their gift bags."
Patience smiled. "Big girls give gift bags. They don't keep them. Those bags are for your friends to enjoy and remember your birthday. And guess what?"
Peace sniffled. "What?"
"They all got one. Every single one of your friends is going home with a part of your party. That's what matters."
Peace tilted her head, considering it. "Even the girl with the big teeth?"
Patience chuckled. "Even her. Especially her."
Peace finally smiled a little. "But... I didn't keep anything."
"Well, that's where I come in," Patience said, tapping her nose. "I'm going to buy you something special. A new birthday surprise. Something only big girls like you get."
"Really?" Peace's eyes sparkled now.
"Really. Something more beautiful than what I gave you earlier."
"Yay!" Peace squealed and hugged her tight.
Just as Patience rose to her feet, brushing imaginary dust from her dress, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Chris, keys in hand and a look of quiet interest on his face.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said with a small smile. "I need to go get something for Peace. Her gift bag got lost."
"I'll drive you," Chris said casually. "The roads are busy, and you're probably tired from all this."
Patience hesitated. "You sure?"
Chris gave her a playful nudge. "Come on. It'll be our getaway from the madness."
She looked over to her mum, who gave a nod from across the room, as if already approving of the trip—and perhaps the company.
Patience grabbed her purse, and a few minutes later, they were in Chris's car, pulling away from the buzz of the party. The silence between them wasn't awkward—it was warm, filled with unspoken comfort.
"I like how you handled Peace," Chris said, glancing at her as he drove.
"She's sensitive. More than Patrick. But she listens when you speak to her heart."
Chris nodded. "You'd make a good mother someday."
Patience glanced at him, surprised by the depth in his tone. "That's a heavy compliment."
"It's true."
She looked out the window, quietly processing the moment. As the car moved along the familiar roads, something inside her shifted again—soft, but sure.
This wasn't just about a missing gift bag. Or a birthday party. Or even the whisper she couldn't forget. It was about what was growing in silence—in glances, gestures, promises.
In that drive, wrapped in stillness and sincerity, something deeper was unfolding.