Egi's Twisted Plan

Calla's POV:

The room had once been sterile—cold marble floors, white curtains, and an unnervingly clinical row of dolls with identical porcelain faces staring blankly from a shelf. But now? It looked like something out of a fairytale.

I stood barefoot on a Persian rug I had hauled in from the east wing, hands on my hips, paint smudged on my cheeks as I stared at my masterpiece.

There were now murky green walls, splashed with muted gold vines. Floating shelves held odd little ceramic foxes, thrifted fairytale books, and a crystal orb I picked up at an antique store on my way home

After Madden and I ate in uncomfortable silence – Madden doing nothing but ignoring my attempts at small talks– he drove off without me, saying he had something urgent to do. The driver arrived to take me home but instead I made a stop for a shop.

I grinned at the transformation like a lunatic with a glue gun. I didn't know it'll be fun transforming Egi’s room.

“Perfect,” I whispered to herself, lighting a stick of sage and waving it in figure eights. “I can't wait to see her pretty face when she sees this."

From her drawings and writings that I went through I realized she loved the color green. She even drew a fairytale bedroom with pixies and tree fairies.

Just then, the door creaked and I stiffened, turning immediately to see Egi looking stunned in the doorway, eyes wide. She was dressed in her school pinafore, backpack still on, blinking at the room in shock.

Her eyes lit up as it landed on the plush velvet beanbag and a crooked little bookshelf in the shape of a tree.

“Tada!! Do you like it?” I asked, beaming, waving my hands dramatically like a magician revealing a trick. “I got stuffed animals! Weird ones. Like this bat.” She held up a stuffed bat with glittery wings. “His name’s Carmichael. There are up to twenty stuffed animals, my nature princess.”

Egi said nothing, just stared at the walls. At the softly blinking fairy lights. At the shelf with the old books. At the tarot card print framed next to her bed.

My smile faltered, just a little. Doesn't she like it???

I immediately thought of something else. “Orrr…” I said quickly, kneeling to pull a small covered bowl from a woven basket, “I also got you... a pet fish?” I lifted the lid to reveal a little blue betta fish swimming slowly in a round bowl.

“His name is... also Carmichael. Junior.” I said awkwardly.

Egi’s shifted backwards immediately. “No!” she shouted, suddenly panicked. “No, I don’t want—stop changing everything! I hate it!! I hate everything! I hate you!!”

And just like that, she dropped her bag and bolted out of the room, leaving me feeling crushed.

“Shit—Egi, wait!” I tried helplessly, rushing after her. I nearly knocked over the sage bowl in the process.

I caught up to her at the staircase, where she stood trembling halfway down, fists clenched at her sides.

“Egi,” I said gently, crouching. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—I thought maybe… I could make it feel like a storybook. Like a safe place. Like… one of your drawings.”

“You’re not my mom,” Egi said, quietly but so very hateful. . “You hate me. You always yelled. You said my laugh gave you a migraine. You said I was a mistake.”

My face crumpled and I knelt lower, until they were eye level.“I know,” I whispered. “ she was cruel and crazy. But I’m not her anymore. I want to make you happy, bond with you and read you storybooks…make cookies for you…laugh with you as we talk about pranking mean students…”

Egi wiped her nose on her sleeve, eyeing me warily. Then she lowered her eyes “Can the fish sleep in my room?” she mumbled.

My chest swelled with relief.. oh my goodness, I'm getting somewhere, right?? This is an interesting development. I could scream.

“Yes,” I said softly. “Carmichael Junior would be honored.”

Egi didn’t quite smile. No worries, baby steps, right?

“So you have to tell me all about school." I brought up stretching my hand towards her.

“Let's go downstairs, there's.. food." She said softly as if she didn't want me to hear her.

“Good.. yeah, good. Let's go eat." I held Egi’s small hand as we made our way down the staircase.

The long table was already set. Silver cloches gleamed beneath the chandelier. The staff had gone silent at our appearance.

The nanny stood in the corner with her ever-watchful eyes, hands tucked in front of her like a nun waiting to scold. Like she was waiting for me to do something despicable and run to Egi's rescue. Fat chance, ma'am.

I pulled out a chair for Egi. “There’s pasta tonight,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “With little star-shaped cheese things. You like those, right?”

Egi didn’t answer. Her eyes had gone glassy again, like someone flipping a switch. She didn't even look at me,

She climbed into her chair and stared at the cutlery in front of her. I watched her, feeling that familiar pit return to my stomach. “Egi…”

She reached slowly—too slowly—for the butter knife.

Something in me shifted. “Sweetheart—careful,” I said gently, moving toward her. “Don’t—”

And then she drove it into the soft flesh of her own forearm.

My heart sank deeply. “Regina!!!"

It wasn’t deep—God, it wasn’t deep—but it was fast and shocking and sudden making my heart thump crazily.

“Daddy!!” she screamed, her eyes blazing with tears, voice sharp with trained terror. “Nanny Greta! She—she tried to hurt me again! Ahhh!”

I froze as time crashed.

“What?” I gasped, rushing toward her. “No, no, no—Egi, baby, I didn’t—why—why would you—?”

Oh my God! Oh my God!!! I didn't even know how to react to this.

I watched as blood bloomed across the sleeve of her dress like a dark poppy. Greta shrieked and ran toward her. Footsteps thundered down the corridor and I glanced up in fright to see Madden.

Oh Jesus.. this is bad, this is bad..

I stumbled backward, my hands in the air. “I didn’t touch her!” I said tearily.. “She—she did it herself!”

Egi was sobbing now, curled into Greta’s chest like a tiny, wounded fox. “She hates me,” she whimpered. “She said I was better off dead—she said—”

“I DIDN’T SAY THAT!” I screamed, louder than I meant to. “Why are you doing this? Egi, why—?”

But she wouldn’t look at me as she continued hugging Greta, trembling.

Madden stormed towards us, eyes wild, tie half undone like he’d sprinted from the other wing. And the moment he saw the blood on Egi’s sleeve, he glared at me.

“It was her daddy!" Egi yelled in pains as Greta tried to soothe her.

He grabbed me, shoved me against the wall, his hand slamming across my chest. “What did you do!?” he bellowed. “What the hell did you do to her?!”

“I didn’t—Madden, I didn’t touch her—I swear on my life—she did it herself—!”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” His breath was hot with rage. “You think I’d believe you, after everything you’ve done to that little girl?”

I choked on a sob, my back pressed into the cold wallpaper, sage ash still clinging to my sleeves. “She hurt herself,” I whispered, desperately. “I don’t know why. I don’t know what she’s trying to prove. But it wasn’t me.”

Egi wailed louder.

And something inside me broke not because of the pain or the hate I'll receive but because I realized…

She had rehearsed it.

Someone had taught her to cry wolf—and believe it.

And when I glanced at her, she was smiling triumphantly.

My knees buckled in shock.