Only My Mia Cara

We had finished washing the last dish.The orphanage halls were asleep. The lights dim.But sleep wasn't calling us just yet.

We crept up the stairs in silence—bare feet soft against the cold floor—until we reached the rooftop.The wind whispered low, brushing against our skin like a forgotten lullaby.

And there, beneath the dull moonlight, we sat close.

Not touching.Not far.Just… close enough to feel warm.

"How long have you been here?" I suddenly asked, voice low.

She hugged her knees and stared ahead.

"Since I was four."

I nodded, there was this question i wanted to ask but wasn't aware how she'd react.

"What happened to you family...Mia cara?" i asked anyway.

She glanced down.Sadness spread across her face like slow-moving clouds.Then she tilted her head up—toward the stars.

I felt something ache inside me.

Why did i even ask? I'm stupid.

"You don't have to tell me," I said quickly. "Only if you want to."

She was quiet a while before whispering,

"They died in an accident. It was… my birthday. They were out for a meeting."

I didn't move.I didn't breathe.

My eyes studied her — the way her amber monolid eyes glistened in the pale light, her black hair braided neatly down her back, her pink lips trembling slightly as she spoke.

And I don't know what came over me.

I reached forward… and hugged her tightly.

"I'll protect you," I whispered, my voice shaking more than hers.

She hugged me back — soft, trusting, innocent.And for a moment, it felt like the world disappeared.

I pulled back slowly.

"You're my bestest friend now," I said, trying to smile.

She lit up — nodded eagerly.

"Best friend forever."

Then she asked,

"What about you? How long have you been here?"

I looked away, jaw tightening.

"Since I was five."

A pause. My throat burned.

"I had a sister… her name was Lily. She was seventeen. She loved flowers."

My voice cracked.

"But she died. And my mom too."

She looked down, her smile gone.

Silence.

"Let's go to sleep now," I muttered. "I'm tired."

She nodded.

We went downstairs—back to the sleeping room filled with soft breathing and shifting blankets.The cold was still there.But something inside me had warmed.

"Goodnight," I whispered as I pulled my blanket over me."Let's talk tomorrow… mia cara."

She smiled a little from across the room.

"Goodnight."

Next morning:

Someone was shaking me.

Gently.

"Wake up! Wake up, Dante!"

Her voice was light, excited.I blinked up at her—her smile shining like the morning sun.My eyes were half closed, my head heavy with sleep.

"What is it, mia cara?" I mumbled, rubbing my face.

She practically bounced in place.

"Kaze is getting adopted!"

I blinked again. "Who?"

"A three-year-old boy—I didn't even know he was here! But the lady, the… the owner of the orphanage—she brought sweets! And clothes! And toys! Come on, come on, let's go see!"

Her excitement was infectious.She grabbed my arm and pulled, her tiny fingers surprisingly strong for someone so small.

As I let her drag me down the creaky wooden stairs, I wasn't thinking about adoption.

Not for myself.

I'd never been adopted.Never even had hope for it.And maybe… I didn't want to be.

But I did want to leave this place someday.This cold, rotting building.The cruel staff.The walls that had heard more crying than laughter.

Downstairs, the dining hall had been transformed.

Toys in one corner. A tray of colorful sweets in another.And a small boy—Kaze, I assumed—stood beside the Orphanage Head, a woman most kids just called Madam Elira.

She wore a too-tight smile that never reached her eyes, but today, she almost looked… human.

She looked at us, then reached down to ruffle our hair.

"What sweet little things," she said in her overly cheerful voice. "What's your name?"

"Danna," my mia cara answered politely, her smile gentle.

Madam Elira turned to me.

I said nothing at first.Then finally, in the flattest voice I could manage, I muttered:

"Dante."

Her hand paused mid-air, as if sensing my coldness. She dropped it and instead handed us each a piece of candy.

"Enjoy the treats," she said before turning away.

As soon as we stepped outside into the morning light, Danna didn't even unwrap her candy.She walked right to her little sister and handed it to her instead.

"Here, you can have mine."

Her sister squealed in joy, unwrapped it like it was gold, and popped it into her mouth with a giggle.

I stared.

Without thinking, I held mine out to Danna.

"Here," I said.

She looked at me, surprised.

"You're not eating it?"

"I don't like sweets," I shrugged.

She paused—then split the candy in half and offered me one piece back.

"Well, I do," she said, "but I like sharing more."

So we sat on the steps—me, her, and the tiny one—eating half a piece of candy each like it was a feast.

When the black car came and the well-dressed couple stepped out, all the kids stood in silence.

Little Kaze was cleaned up, hair combed, a new shirt hanging loose on his small frame.He held a teddy bear in one hand, but he looked scared.

The couple smiled politely. Madam Elira praised them with fake sweetness.The door opened, and Kaze walked toward his new life.

Everyone waved.We did too.

"Goodbye, Kaze!" Danna called. Her sister waved both arms.

I waved slowly.He looked back once—just once—and then the door shut.

Behind us, a grumbling voice said:

"Good. The more of 'em gone, the better. Brats are a pain in the butt. I hate this job."

It was one of the workers.I turned.I glared, hard.

But they didn't notice.

Back inside, the mood was strange.

Too quiet. Too tense.

"I'm happy for Kaze," Danna said beside me. "He'll be safe now. Warm. With a family."

One of the boys her age nodded.

"Maybe we'll get adopted next. All of us. Someday."

They smiled.

But my heart… cracked.

Adopted?That meant separated.Taken.

Scattered.Gone.

Will someone take her away from me? my Mia cara?

Suddenly, my hand shot out and grabbed hers. Tight. Like I was afraid she'd disappear.

She looked at me, wide-eyed. "Dante?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, looking away.

But I couldn't let go.

Not yet.

Not ever.

A second later, the bark of a warden echoed through the hallway.

"Everyone inside! Line up! Now!"

The moment broke.I loosened my grip.

She gave me one last glance—confused, a little worried.

And I just… followed her inside.