Avebury, 1900

A little girl played among the Standing Stones of Avebury, her large red scarf fluttering as she darted around. Her curly black hair bounced with each step, and her large gray eyes sparkled with delight. She moved from one stone to another, touching each one gently as if communicating through her fingertips.

The little girl was adopted and accustomed to moving frequently due to her adoptive parents' work, rarely staying in one place for more than a year. Each move meant a new environment, new faces that seldom grew familiar. It was a constant reminder that she didn't quite belong.

The girl often felt like an outsider, watching other children form bonds and share secrets from which she was excluded. Her interactions were transient, much like the places she briefly called home.

Her adoptive parents offered little warmth or affection. At home, her presence seemed more an obligation than a joy, her needs and desires often overlooked or dismissed.

Although these constant changes left her feeling rootless, Avebury was different. Something about the stones spoke to her. She felt strangely at home in this circle of giant monoliths. Sometimes she even swore she could hear whispers.

But for some strange and inexplicable reason, her adoptive mother had imposed a new rule: While they were staying in Avebury, there would be no more wandering or exploring. A restriction that made little sense and felt painfully restrictive.

"But I don't understand. Why can't I?"

"We won't be staying here much longer. Just a few more weeks and we're going back to the continent," the woman replied curtly.

"Do we have to? This is the first place I've ever really liked."

"This is a dreadful place. It's filled with bad energy. That's why I don't want you to run around," the woman said, her voice sharp.

"But why can't I play around the stones? I love it there!"

"Because that's an evil place, meant for witches. Are you a witch?"

"No..."

"Then you have nothing to look for there."

"Please, I—"

A slap cut her off. The sting was swift, leaving the girl's cheek red and her heart sinking. Tears welled up in her large eyes, not just from the pain but from the harsh rejection of her simple joy.

The little girl ran to her room, threw herself onto the bed, and soaked her pillow with tears. She was so sad and lonely. Often, she fantasized that her real parents would come for her, explaining that there had been a mix-up at the hospital and that she was actually theirs, and they had come to take her home. Sometimes, they were a king and queen, and other times they were ordinary people, but they were always filled with the love and warmth she desperately craved. In her imaginings, they took her to a magnificent castle or to a modest, yet happy home surrounded by nature. In these dreams, there was never a lack of hugs or kisses. However, each time she opened her eyes, reality returned, along with the harsh truth that her dreams were just that—dreams.

But within her, a spirit of defiance burned. With every tear she shed, the little girl's resolve grew stronger. So, wiping the tears from her eyes, she once again slipped out of the house.

This time she was accompanied by a village cat, which also seemed to have no home of its own. The cat was seeking a bit of comfort, affection, and food wherever it could find it. It seemed the cat recognized a similar fate in the little girl. The cat followed her all the way to the tall stones.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful if we had a kingdom of our own?" The little girl said to the cat, "In our kingdom, animals would live in lovely little cottages, dressed up in cozy sweaters and tiny boots. And the flowers, they'd sit and talk to us all day. They'd tell us secrets of the wind and stories of the sun. We could chat for hours and never run out of tales."

She spun around, her scarf twirling with her, "And the birds! Friendly little birds that say 'hello' as they flutter from tree to tree, each one with a tune so clear, like they're singing just for us."

She looked at the cat, her eyes wide with wonder. "Our kingdom would be a wonderland where everyone is friendly and no one is lonely. Here, in this special place, it feels like that could become a reality, don't you think?"

The cat, in turn, rubbed against her leg, and softly purred.

Avebury, 1935

As Marguerite and Juliette walked among the Standing Stones of Avebury, the air was filled with a serene silence. The only sound was made by soft clopping of hooves and occasional bark by Archie.

Marguerite observed the scene around her. It was incredible how everything looked exactly the same as it did 35 years ago, yet her life had changed beyond recognition. The feeling was bittersweet. She felt sad for her lonely childhood but happy about the life she now led.

Sensing this, Juliette instinctively hugged her mother and Marguerite returned the embrace firmly. She stroked her daughter's hair and planted several kisses on her hair and forehead.

Juliette giggled, "Mummy, what's with you all of a sudden?"

"Many years ago, a little girl played right here, longing for nothing more than a hug and a kiss—which she never received. I am here to make sure that this little girl," she paused, gently squeezing Juliette, "never experiences such a feeling. I want you to know that I love you very, very much."

"I love you too," said Juliette, as she nestled deeper into the embrace.

As they continued their walk, Marguerite shared with Juliette the story of the little girl.

"Here, she came to find peace. These stone circles were her secret guardians. They gave her strength. She managed to find peace even when everything around her was falling apart."

Juliette listened intently. Her intuition whispered that this mysterious girl might be her mother, but, demonstrating respect and understanding for Marguerite's willingness to share only as much as she wished, Juliette restrained herself from asking her about it.

Instead she asked, "Did the little girl find her happiness in the end?"

Marguerite glanced out over the landscape, the ancient stones casting long shadows in the late afternoon. She turned back to Juliette.

"Yes, the little girl found happiness eventually. She grew up to find love, to have a family, and to be surrounded by beauty and kindness - much like we are right now. She had learned the most important lesson - no matter where our stories begin, they can always lead to a happy ending."