Summer had settled over Little Whinging with a warmth that made everything feel slow and heavy. The air shimmered above the pavement, and the faint scent of cut grass lingered as kids ran barefoot through the park. Cassie loved it.
She darted through the tall grass with the neighbourhood kids, her cheeks flushed and her black hair sticking to her forehead. There was something about running just for the sake of running that felt good—free. She wasn't thinking about her mum's endless rules or the million questions that always seemed to swirl in her head. She was just… here.
They were playing a game of tag, and Cassie had managed to avoid being "it" for three whole rounds. A boy named Arthur was chasing after her, his face scrunched up in concentration as she zigzagged out of his reach. She laughed, her breath coming in short bursts, and glanced back just in time to see him trip over a tree root. He went sprawling into the grass, and Cassie doubled over, clutching her stomach as she laughed so hard she could barely breathe.
"Not fair!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the grass. "You're too fast!"
"That's not my fault!" Cassie called back, still grinning. She bent down and offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet.
Across the park, her mum was sitting on a bench under the big oak tree, a newspaper in her lap. Cassie could tell she wasn't really reading it, though. She had that look on her face—the one where her eyes sort of drifted off, like she was a million miles away. Cassie wondered what her mum was thinking about, but she didn't ask. Not now, anyway.
A bark snapped her attention. She turned and spotted a scruffy little dog bounding toward her, its floppy ears bouncing with every step. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth, and its tail wagged so hard it looked like it might take off. Cassie knelt down in the grass as the dog skidded to a stop in front of her, panting happily.
"Hey there, boy," she said, scratching behind its ears. The dog's fur was warm from the sun, and it licked her hand, making her giggle. "Where'd you come from, huh?"
A woman jogged up a moment later, slightly out of breath. "Sorry about that," she said, clipping a leash onto the dog's collar. "He's friendly, but he's got no manners."
"It's okay," Cassie said, still petting the dog. She smiled up at the woman, then turned her attention back to her new furry friend. "What's his name?"
"Archie," the woman replied.
Cassie grinned. "Hi, Archie," she said, scratching under the dog's chin. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"
Archie barked again, wagging his tail so hard that his whole body wiggled. Cassie laughed, and for a second, everything else faded, it was just her and Archie and the sun and the grass, and it felt nice.
But then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught her mum watching from the bench. Cassie straightened up, brushing the dirt off her knees, and waved. Her mum didn't wave back. She was staring at the dog with this weird look on her face, like she wasn't really seeing him at all.
Cassie tilted her head, confused. "Mum?" she called, but her mum didn't respond. She was still staring, her hand frozen on the newspaper like she'd forgotten it was there.
Cassie frowned and looked back at Archie. He was wagging his tail, looking up at her with big, happy eyes. He didn't seem like the kind of dog that could make anyone sad, but her mum's face said otherwise.
Cassie decided she'd run up to her soon and shake her out of it. But before she could take a step, something caught her eye.
There, above the row of tall trees lining the park's edge, a shadow flickered. Cassie squinted, shielding her eyes from the sun as she tilted her head to get a better look. The shadow came again, but this time it wasn't just one—it was two, then three.
Her breath hitched.
Owls.
Not just any owls—big, graceful ones, their wings catching the sunlight as they glided silently over the treetops. Cassie froze, her heart thudding. Owls weren't supposed to be out during the day, were they? She was pretty sure they weren't. But there they were, their feathers streaking through the bright afternoon sky, swooping low over the park before disappearing into the distance.
She craned her neck, her mouth slightly open as she watched them. "What…?" she whispered to herself, half-expecting the other kids to notice, too. But no one else seemed to care. They were all still running around, yelling and laughing, completely oblivious.
Cassie turned on her heel, her eyes still locked on the treetops. For a second, she thought she saw one of the owls circle back, its sharp beak glinting in the sunlight, its yellow eyes flashing as it turned its head—like it was looking for something.
Or someone.
Her pulse quickened, but not in a bad way. It was more like… excitement. Like she'd stumbled onto something secret. Something important.
She tore her gaze away and ran full-speed across the grass, her ponytail whipping behind her. "Mum!" she called, her voice high and urgent. She was already out of breath by the time she reached the bench, her hands gripping the edge as she looked up at her mum, wide-eyed.
"Mum!" she said again, her words tumbling out. "Did you see them?"
Her mum blinked, startled out of whatever thoughts had been occupying her. She looked up from her paper, her brow furrowing. "See what?" she asked, her voice calm but curious.
"The owls!" Cassie burst out, plopping down on the bench beside her. "There were owls, Mum! Three of them, flying around the park. In the middle of the day!"
Her mum froze. It was so subtle that if Cassie hadn't been looking right at her, she might not have noticed. But she did notice. The way her mum's hand tightened on the edge of the newspaper. The way her face, just for a split second, lost all of its usual calm.
Cassie hated it when her mum got that faraway look, like she was keeping something big from her. It made her feel small, like she wasn't part of the grown-up world where all the important things happened. But more than that, it made her feel… lonely.
And then, just as quickly, it was gone. Her mum's expression softened, and she smiled faintly.
"Really?" Marlene said, her voice light and casual. "That's… unusual."
Cassie frowned. That wasn't the reaction she'd been expecting. "Unusual? Mum, owls don't come out during the day. That's weird, isn't it? Doesn't that mean something? Maybe they're lost. Or… or maybe they're… magic owls!" Her words spilled out in a rush, her excitement building again, despite the way her mum's smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
Marlene nodded slowly, her gaze flickering toward the tree line. "Maybe," she murmured. "They were probably just… looking for food."
But Cassie wasn't buying it. Her mum didn't sound like she believed that. She sounded like she was trying to brush it off. Cassie leaned forward, narrowing her eyes as she studied her mum's face. "You don't seem surprised," she said, her voice edging toward suspicion. "Do you know why they were here?"
Her mum shook her head quickly, standing up and brushing invisible dust off her jeans. "No, love, I don't. Owls are just birds, Cassie. It's nothing to worry about."
Cassie sat back, crossing her arms. "They didn't look like just birds to me. They were flying really low, and it was almost like… like they were looking for something. Or someone."
Her mum's hand twitched at her side, and Cassie caught the smallest flicker of something in her expression. Was it… worry? No, it couldn't be. Could it?
"Maybe they were," Marlene said carefully, her voice even. "But owls can't hurt anyone, can they? They're just owls." She forced another smile, but Cassie wasn't fooled.
Something was off.
Cassie glanced back toward the park, her eyes scanning the treetops where the owls had disappeared. Her heart was still racing. What if they were magic owls? She'd read in books that witches and wizards used owls to deliver messages. What if these ones were delivering a message to her? Or her mum?
Her mum crouched down suddenly, brushing a strand of hair out of Cassie's face. "Don't overthink it, alright? Sometimes owls just fly during the day, especially in the summer." Her voice was warm, reassuring, but Cassie could see the tension in her mum's eyes, like she was trying too hard to sound normal.
Cassie tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at her mum. "Are you sure they're just owls?"
Marlene let out a soft laugh, tapping the tip of Cassie's nose. "You've got quite the imagination, don't you?" She stood again, glancing toward the kids playing in the distance. "Go on, love. You'll miss the sunlight."
Cassie hesitated. Her mum wasn't telling her something. She knew it. It wasn't just the questions her mum wouldn't answer—it was the way she closed off, like there was a door between them that Cassie couldn't open. And it hurt, even if she didn't want to admit it.
With a reluctant sigh, she hopped off the bench and jogged back toward the park. But her thoughts stayed fixed on the owls. What if they weren't here by accident? What if they were looking for something—or someone?
And why did her mum look so worried?
Cassie's eyes lit up as she stared at the towering oak tree in the middle of the park, its branches reaching high into the blue summer sky. It wasn't just a tree—it was the tree. The biggest one at the park, and she was absolutely certain she could climb it. Well, almost certain.
"Mum," she called over her shoulder, tilting her head toward the oak. "Can I climb the tree?"
Her mum glanced up from the newspaper, her brow furrowing slightly as she sized up the tree. Cassie could tell she was going to say no. That cautious look was written all over her face, the one that usually came before "it's not safe" or "not today, Cass."
"I don't know, Cass," her mum said, her voice careful. "That tree looks—"
"Sturdy!" Cassie interrupted, her grin wide and persuasive. "It looks really sturdy. And I'll be careful. Promise."
Her mum raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. Cassie puffed out her chest a little, trying to look as serious as possible. She even clasped her hands in front of her, just for good measure. "Please, Mum? Just this once?"
There was a long pause as Marlene studied her daughter, her lips twitching slightly as if she were trying not to smile. Cassie could feel the answer hanging in the air. She crossed her fingers behind her back.
Finally, her mum let out a small sigh. "Alright," she relented, leaning back on the bench. "But if you fall and break something, don't come crying to me. I'm not a Healer, you know."
Cassie's grin practically split her face. Before her mum could change her mind, she turned and bolted toward the tree, her trainers kicking up little clouds of dust as she ran. The old oak looked even bigger up close, its bark rough under her fingers as she pressed her palms to the trunk.
This was going to be awesome.
Cassie jumped for the lowest branch, her arms stretching high above her head. She missed by inches and landed with a soft thud, her arms swinging in frustration. "Okay," she muttered to herself, "round two." She backed up a little, then ran forward, leaping again. Her hands just barely caught the edge of the branch, and she clung to it with all her might, her feet scrambling against the trunk for support.
"Need help?" came a teasing voice from somewhere behind her. Cassie glanced over her shoulder to see one of the neighborhood boys walking by, a football tucked under his arm. He was smirking, like he thought she couldn't do it.
"No!" she shot back, her voice sharp. "I've got this!" She glared at him until he shrugged and wandered off, and then she focused all her energy on pulling herself up.
Her legs dangled wildly for a moment, but with a determined grunt, she managed to haul herself onto the branch. She sat there, panting, her legs swinging as she caught her breath. When she looked down, her mum was watching her from the bench, one hand resting on her chin, her expression halfway between amusement and worry.
"I told you!" Cassie shouted down triumphantly, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm the queen of the tree!"
Her mum shook her head, a small smile on her lips. "Queen of the tree," she muttered just loud enough for Cassie to hear. "And yet you won't clean your room."
Cassie stuck her tongue out playfully, leaning back against the trunk like she belonged there. The sun filtered through the leaves above her, casting dappled light across her face. She felt untouchable, like she was on top of the world. Nothing could ruin this moment.
"Alright, Your Majesty," her mum called, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "You've conquered the tree. Now come down before you make me regret saying yes."
Cassie groaned dramatically, her shoulders slumping. "But I just got up here!" she protested. Still, she knew better than to push her luck. She carefully swung her legs back over the branch and started climbing down.
Her hands were sweaty, and the bark scratched her palms as she lowered herself onto the next branch. For a second, her foot slipped, and her heart jumped into her throat. But she caught herself, her fingers gripping the bark tightly. She glanced down to see her mum tense on the bench, her hands clenched in her lap, but she didn't say anything.
"I'm fine!" Cassie called, flashing her mum a grin. "Totally fine!"
"Great," her mum replied dryly. "Now get on with it."
By the time Cassie's feet hit the ground, her arms were sore, and her hands were covered in dirt and little bits of bark. But she couldn't stop smiling. She turned to her mum, beaming with pride. "Told you I could do it."
Her mum reached out to ruffle her hair, a small laugh escaping her. "Of course you did. And you'll have splinters in your hands to prove it."
Cassie laughed, brushing her hands against her jeans. "It was worth it."
She glanced back at the tree as they started walking home, already thinking about climbing it again someday. Her mum took her hand, and Cassie barely noticed the way her grip tightened just slightly, like she was holding on a little too hard. Instead, she launched into a long explanation about how she needed her own treehouse—obviously, with a rope ladder and a secret compartment for snacks.
Her mum smiled and nodded along, but Cassie noticed the way her eyes kept flicking back toward the tree, like she was thinking about something else entirely. Whatever it was, Cassie didn't ask. She was too busy imagining her new treehouse and how amazing it was going to be.
Cassie raced ahead, her shoes slapping against the pavement as she bounded up the front steps of their small apartment building. She was still buzzing from the day at the park, her mind full of tree climbing, laughter, and the fleeting wonder of those owls she'd seen earlier. Her mum walked behind her, quieter than usual, her face distant in a way Cassie couldn't quite figure out.
"Mum, come on!" Cassie called as she fumbled with the keys. She glanced back to see her mum give her a distracted smile, her lips twitching upward just barely, like she wasn't really there.
Cassie hesitated for a second, watching her. Her mum always looked a little tired—she worked so much, after all—but tonight felt different. She was quiet in a way that made Cassie's stomach twist, like when you know someone's keeping something from you. But Cassie pushed the thought aside as the lock finally clicked.
Inside, the apartment felt warm and familiar, the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air like always. Cassie kicked off her trainers, sending one flying into the hallway, and grinned at her mum, who raised an eyebrow at her.
"Trainers," her mum said with a pointed look.
Cassie groaned but shuffled back to line them up properly by the door. "Happy?" she muttered, though her tone was playful.
"Ecstatic," her mum replied dryly, setting her bag down on the counter. She was already pulling her hair out of its loose bun, something she always did when they got home, like she couldn't wait to relax. But even as she did, her movements seemed slower than usual, her gaze lingering on nothing in particular.
Cassie paused, mid-hop, on her way to the bathroom. "Mum, are you okay?" she asked, her brow furrowing.
Her mum blinked, as though startled out of her thoughts. "I'm fine, love," she said quickly, giving Cassie a small smile. "Just a lot on my mind."
Cassie didn't believe her. But she nodded anyway and skipped off to the bathroom. Her mum didn't like being pushed when she was in one of her moods, and besides, Cassie had other things to think about—like convincing her mum to let her climb the tree again tomorrow.
The bath was warm and full of bubbles, just the way Cassie liked it. She leaned back in the water, letting the day wash off her. The image of the owls popped into her head again, their silent wings cutting through the blue sky. She couldn't stop thinking about how strange it had been—owls, flying around in the middle of the day. And the way her mum had reacted, like she was trying too hard not to care. Cassie frowned, sinking a little lower into the water.
Dinner was simple—just beans on toast and a bit of fruit, but Cassie didn't mind. She chatted away about her day, recounting every little detail from the park, from the dog she'd petted to the boy who'd laughed at her when she couldn't climb the tree at first.
"And then I told him I didn't need his help, and I climbed all the way up myself!" Cassie said proudly, her fork waving in the air for emphasis.
"Good for you," her mum said, smiling faintly. But Cassie could tell she wasn't really listening. She was pushing her beans around on her plate, her eyes unfocused, her mind clearly somewhere else.
"Mum," Cassie said, her voice cutting through the quiet. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Her mum looked up quickly, like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. "I'm fine, sweetheart," she said, her smile widening a fraction. "Just a bit tired. Keep telling me about the park."
Cassie narrowed her eyes, not buying it, but she let it go for now. She went back to her story, though her gaze kept flicking toward her mum. Something was definitely off. Usually, her mum laughed along with her stories, or at least added a sarcastic comment here and there. But tonight, she just nodded and hummed every so often, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
When dinner was done, Cassie helped clear the table, stacking her plate on top of her mum's. She could feel the questions bubbling up in her chest, but she didn't know how to ask them.
As they washed the dishes together, her mum's silence grew heavier, the kind that filled the space between them like a wall. Cassie scrubbed a plate a little too hard, the soapy water sloshing over the edge of the sink.
Finally, she couldn't hold it in anymore. "Mum," she said hesitantly, her hands pausing in the suds. "What's wrong?"
Her mum froze for a fraction of a second, the dishcloth in her hand stilling. But then she shook her head and gave Cassie a quick, reassuring smile. "Nothing's wrong, Cassie," she said lightly. "Why do you ask?"
"You're just… different tonight," Cassie said, her voice soft. "Like you're thinking about something important."
Her mum's shoulders relaxed a little, but her eyes didn't lose that faraway look. She reached out, tucking a stray strand of Cassie's damp hair behind her ear. "Don't you worry about me, alright? Grown-up things, that's all."
Cassie didn't press her. She just nodded, though the knot of unease in her chest didn't go away. As they finished the dishes and moved to the living room, Cassie watched her mum carefully. She could tell when her mum was pretending everything was fine. It was something she'd gotten good at noticing over the years. And tonight, her mum was definitely pretending.
Cassie curled up on the sofa with a book, but she kept sneaking glances at her mum, who sat at the kitchen table with an untouched cup of tea, staring at something Cassie couldn't see.
But she was too tired to think of that, she yawned loudly, snapping her book shut with exaggerated flair and sliding off the couch. She stretched her arms high above her head and let out a little groan, glancing toward her mum, who was still sitting at the kitchen table, lost in thought.
"Mum," Cassie said, padding across the room in her socks. Marlene blinked and looked up, her eyes clearing as though she'd just noticed the time. Cassie tilted her head and gave her mum a pointed look. "It's bedtime. Aren't you going to tuck me in?"
Marlene's lips curved into a soft smile, but Cassie could see the tiredness there, lurking just behind her expression. "Of course, love. Go brush your teeth first, and I'll be there."
Cassie nodded and scurried off to the bathroom, her footsteps echoing faintly down the hall. She brushed her teeth quickly, her mind still lingering on the way her mum had been acting tonight. She wasn't sure what was wrong, but she knew it wasn't "grown-up things." Not really. Grown-up things didn't usually make her mum this quiet.
By the time Cassie climbed into bed, Marlene was already there, pulling back the covers for her. Cassie hopped in and settled under the blanket, tugging it up to her chin as her mum tucked the edges in neatly around her. Marlene always did this part with care, her hands gentle and steady, as though wrapping Cassie in the blanket was a way of protecting her from the world.
"Snug as a bug," Marlene said softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Her voice sounded lighter now, but Cassie wasn't convinced. There was still that shadow behind her mother's eyes, a weight Cassie couldn't quite name.
Cassie frowned up at her. "You're really bad at hiding stuff, you know."
Marlene's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Am I now?"
Cassie nodded seriously, her dark hair fanning out across the pillow. "You've been acting weird all night. You're not mad at me, are you? Because of the tree or the owls or something?"
Marlene let out a soft laugh and leaned down, brushing a strand of hair away from Cassie's forehead. "No, sweetheart. I'm not mad at you. Not even a little."
"Then what is it?" Cassie pressed, her gray eyes searching her mother's face. "You've been thinking about something all day. I can tell."
Marlene hesitated, her hand pausing mid-reach as she smoothed Cassie's blanket. She stared at her daughter for a moment, her expression softening into something Cassie couldn't quite read.
"Sometimes grown-ups just… have a lot on their minds," Marlene said finally, her voice quiet. "But it's nothing for you to worry about. I promise."
Cassie narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but she let it drop for now. "If you say so."
"I do," Marlene said firmly, leaning down to press a kiss to Cassie's forehead. "And right now, you need to close those eyes and get some sleep, or you'll be too tired to climb any more trees tomorrow."
Cassie huffed a small laugh, her eyes fluttering shut as Marlene stroked her hair. "Night, Mum," she murmured sleepily.
"Goodnight, Cassie," she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly. Cassie didn't notice—she was already drifting off—but Marlene stayed by her side, her fingers brushing the edge of the blanket as though holding onto it might keep the past at bay.