Chapter 40: The Bright Horizon
Eva was three years old now, and the world had continued to grow alongside her, expanding in ways she could barely comprehend, but still, it was her world—her garden of thoughts, her curious wanderings, her quiet observations. As the seasons shifted outside, bringing a fresh chill to the air, her life inside the mansion had also changed.
She was still young, her cheeks round and her smile wide, full of innocence that made every room she entered seem brighter. Her hair, now a little longer and more unruly than it used to be, hung in soft curls around her face, catching the sunlight in golden strands that shimmered with every movement. She looked like a delicate doll—small, beautiful, and perfectly untouched by the weight of anything beyond her own perception of the world.
But it was clear to everyone around her that she was growing, both physically and mentally, far beyond what any two- or three-year-old child should. Her intellect was still hidden, shielded from the world, wrapped up like a treasure in her small frame. Eva's parents and her aunt, Vivienne, had long since realized that they could not keep everything from her. She was too observant, too aware. But the difficulty of shielding her from the outside world only seemed to grow as the days passed.
Her mama, Evelyn, was still busy with her work. She was often buried in her thoughts, her papers, and her plans. Papa, Reginald, would sometimes come home in the evening, looking tired, his hands still stained with ink or the faint scent of wood from his office. Both of them still loved her—Eva could see it in the way they looked at her—but their absences were becoming more frequent.
And Aunt Vivienne, the one who had once been her primary playmate, the one who carried her on long walks and spoiled her with her stories, was not around as much anymore. Vivienne had her own life, her own responsibilities, and her quiet, reserved demeanor had started to pull her away from Eva as well.
It didn't make Eva sad—not entirely. But there were moments, like today, when she felt the weight of it. She had wandered through the empty halls of the house for what felt like an eternity, her small fingers brushing the smooth surfaces of the furniture, her soft footsteps echoing in the stillness. It was quiet now—too quiet for a child as energetic as Eva, too quiet for the vibrant mind that danced with questions at every turn.
"Where is everyone?" she asked herself aloud, tilting her head back to look at the high ceilings. Her voice was small, but it carried through the halls. "Mama? Papa? Aunt Vivienne?"
No answer.
She wandered into the drawing room, where her mama often worked. The desk was empty, papers scattered haphazardly, but Evelyn wasn't there. The bookcases stood tall, the familiar leather-bound books catching her eye. Eva loved the smell of books, the way they filled the air with possibilities.
"I want to go to school," she said, her voice firm but quiet. She had thought about it for days, even weeks. There were so many books, so many things to learn. She wanted to see other children, to understand more than what the books in the house could teach her. She wanted more than the quiet isolation of the mansion.
Eva wanted to be around others, to have experiences that stretched beyond the world of walls and windows.
She sat in front of her mama's desk and reached for the phone—an object she had grown to admire from afar. Eva's tiny fingers hovered over the keys, but she hesitated. She didn't know exactly how to make her request known, but she knew she wanted to speak to her mama. She wanted her to hear her, to see that she wasn't just a little girl who needed constant care and attention. She was someone who wanted to be a part of the world.
Taking a deep breath, Eva dialed the familiar number. After a few rings, the sound of her mama's voice came through.
"Eva? Is something wrong, darling?"
Eva's heart fluttered. She hadn't expected to hear her mama's voice right then. She wasn't sure why, but hearing her mama always made everything feel just a little bit better, like the world was somehow safer with her voice on the other end.
"Mama, I want to go to school," Eva said, her voice steady but filled with an earnestness that only a child could muster. "I want to learn. I want to meet other children."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, a hesitation that Eva could sense even from a distance. Then, her mama spoke, her voice soft, yet full of concern.
"You don't need to go to school yet, darling," Evelyn said gently. "There's so much for you to learn here, with us. We can teach you, and you'll be able to experience the world in your own way. You're too young, Eva."
But Eva felt something stir inside her, something that made her want more. "But, Mama, I'm not like other children, am I? I'm ready."
Her words were almost too mature for her age, but Eva had known for a long time that she was different. She had outgrown the need for childish explanations or distractions. She wanted more—a world beyond the house, beyond the safe bubble her parents had so carefully created for her.
She wanted to stretch her wings and soar into the unknown.
"I know you are special, Eva," Evelyn said, her voice thick with emotion. "But this is why we need to be careful. The world outside isn't always kind. And we want to protect you. You don't have to rush into it, darling."
Eva's tiny face crinkled in thought. She knew her mama was right, but the feeling inside her—the yearning—didn't fade. She was ready for more. She was ready for school, for other children, for something that wasn't hidden away from the world.
"Will you be home soon, Mama?" Eva asked, her voice small, but hopeful. "I want to show you something."
Evelyn paused for a moment, and then her voice softened. "I'll be home as soon as I can, sweetheart. I promise."
*****
Later that evening, when her mama finally returned, Eva was already in bed, but her mind was still racing. Her thoughts ran wild with possibilities of what school might be like, what she might learn, who she might meet. The excitement was overwhelming, and she found it difficult to settle into the warmth of her blanket.
Her mama came into the room and sat at the edge of Eva's bed, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
"What is it, darling? You wanted to show me something?" Evelyn asked softly.
Eva looked up at her mama, her small hands fidgeting beneath the covers. "I don't want to stay here anymore," she said quietly. "I want to go to school. Please."
Her mama sighed softly, and for a moment, she just watched Eva. Then, as if coming to a decision, Evelyn leaned down and kissed her daughter's forehead.
"Eva, my love," Evelyn whispered, "school is a long way off for you. But if that's truly what you want… we will figure it out."
Eva smiled, her heart swelling with hope. She had made up her mind.
But what she didn't know, what no one could have predicted, was how the choice she made—thinking that homeschooling might be enough—would shape her future in ways she could never have imagined.
"I want to learn, Mama," Eva said, her eyes wide with wonder. "I want to learn everything."
Evelyn smiled softly, her heart heavy with love. "You will, darling. You will."
And with that, Eva settled down for the night, her mind still buzzing with thoughts of what lay ahead. She had made her decision, one that would guide her through the next chapters of her life—whether it was a mistake or not. For now, Eva was content. She was happy with her choice, and she would learn, in her own way, at her own pace.
And that, for now, was enough.