Chapter 77: A Ring for My Ina
I saw her again today—Ina, my sun and my moon.
She was sitting by the window in the upstairs hall where the light always feels like it's trying to kiss her face. Her book was open, but she wasn't reading. Just… sitting. Still and quiet like she always is when no one's looking.
Seraphina feels like her old self. Not the same—but kinda the same. I won't let her feel what I feel from my previous life.
Eva thinking this to herself.
Sometimes I think the world forgets about Ina. Her parents are always gone—off somewhere I can't pronounce, sending postcards with mountains or cities or blurry smiles that look like maybe they were in a hurry. And she never says she's sad, but I can feel it anyway. It's like something heavy hiding behind her pretty smile. They don't love her. They created her just to show off.
It's never fair for my beloved Seraphina—my Ina.
So I decided something.
If no one else will love her enough, then I will.
I'll love her more and more and more—so much that she'll never feel lonely again. I'll love her like the stars love the night sky, all wrapped around her. Like sunlight that wants to stay just for her. I'll kiss her a lot, and sit on her lap even when she's reading boring books, and hug her so tight the lonely has to leave. If the whole world forgets her, I won't.
Because she's mine.
My Yue.
My Ina.
My Seraphina.
Sometimes she glows so much it makes my chest hurt. She's so beautiful when she smiles, even when she isn't smiling. Sometimes she just is, and it's enough to make the world slow down.
I don't think anyone else sees it quite right—not even Mère or Maman. But I do.
So, I made a plan.
I'm going to marry her someday. For real. I told her already, and she just smiled like she didn't believe me, but I mean it. I'll grow up and be big and wear a dress that sparkles like galaxies and tell her that she's mine and I'm hers. And I'll give her something that proves it.
A ring.
Not just a ring. A whole set. I've been drawing it in my special blue notebook I hide in my bookshelf behind my dinosaur encyclopedia. That way Maman doesn't find it and ask too many questions.
Here's what I made:
The ring: It's got a sun and a moon that face each other, not touching yet, but almost—just like me and Ina. In the middle, where their rays meet, is a Changbai peridot. It's green and glowy like something magical that fell from the sky. Like Ina's favorite color when she's pretending she doesn't have a favorite. The band is thin and twisted like a ribbon, and it has tiny stars etched along the sides. I added those because when I kiss her cheeks and whisper poems, I always say she's made of stars.
The earrings: One is a sun. The other is a moon. I asked Aunt Vivi if people were allowed to do that—wear mismatched earrings—and she laughed and said of course, especially for fashion that means something. So I drew the sun earring for her left ear and the moon for her right, both with little peridots in the center like tiny suns and moons made from light.
The necklace: This one is my favorite. It's a circle pendant with a whole sky inside it—tiny stars made of silver dots, all wrapped around a single green gem. It's supposed to look like a night sky with a secret sunrise hiding in it. When Ina wears it, I want her to feel like she's always carrying a piece of the world I see when I look at her.
The bracelet: This one took me four tries to get right. It has a sun and a moon in the middle, holding hands (but not real hands—they're swirly and pretty like the patterns Ina draws when she's bored). Between them is another peridot stone, and the chain is made of tiny stars. I added a small black diamond in the center, like a seed. Because I read that black diamonds are the oldest. I want it to grow with her, and maybe someday, we can add more little gems to mark things she loves or things we do together.
I wrote in my notebook:
When I grow up, and I have enough money from doing brilliant Eva things, I'll make them real. Then I'll give them to her, one by one. When she's sad, I'll give her the earrings. When she's tired, the bracelet. When she forgets how beautiful she is, the necklace. And when I ask her to marry me—really, really for real—I'll give her the ring.
I even figured out how the ring can turn into a necklace charm, in case she stops wearing rings later. I think about stuff like that because I want it to last forever.
Today, I found Ina sitting under the piano again. She does that when the world feels too big. So I crawled under with her, even though it made my knees hurt.
She looked at me and smiled. "Moonbeam," she said.
That's what she calls me sometimes. I like it better than Eva. It makes me feel like I belong to her.
I crawled into her lap and made her wrap her arms around me. Then I kissed her nose. And her cheek. And her lips—five times exactly. One for each year I've been alive. I told her I'd do six next year.
She didn't say no. She just laughed, soft and warm like tea.
Then I whispered, "I'm gonna marry you when I'm grown."
She smiled that way she does when she's hiding something in her eyes.
"Do you believe me?" I asked.
She said, "I believe in your love."
That was good enough for now.
Then I made her lie down with me on the rug under the piano. We watched dust motes float like stars above us. I played with her fingers and told her they were the prettiest fingers in the world. She blushed and called me impossible.
I liked that.
*****
Later, I found Aunt Vivi in her room trying on shoes and pretending to be mad about nothing matching. I climbed onto her bed and opened my notebook.
"I need your help," I told her.
"Oh?" she said, half-listening until she saw the sketches. Then she sat down properly and looked.
"These are beautiful," she said. "Did you design all these?"
I nodded. "For Ina. For when I marry her."
Mère—Aunt Vivi didn't laugh. Not even a little. She just blinked a few times and said, "Well, then we better make sure they're perfect."
I threw my arms around her neck and squealed. "I knew you'd say yes!"
"We'll need a good jeweler," she said, flipping through my pages. "And someone who can work with peridot. It's a soft stone."
I frowned. "But strong in meaning."
"Yes," she agreed, touching the sketch of the bracelet. "Like your Ina."
Then I asked if we could go to a gemstone shop one day soon. Mère—Aunt Vivi said yes, but only if I let her paint my nails with sparkles. I made a face, but I said okay if she used green and gold like my sketches.
She kissed my head and called me a little enchantress.
I liked that too.
That night, I stayed in Seraphina's room again. She read me poetry, and I told her all about my dream where we lived in a castle made of moonlight. She tucked me into her side and said, "You make the world brighter, little one."
But I think she doesn't understand.
She's the one who makes the world shine.
And I'm going to love her until the stars fall down. Until the sun forgets how to rise. Until she never feels lonely again.
That's a promise.
My sun.
My moon.
My star.
My galaxy.
My everything.
*****
In the morning, I surprised her with a crown.
It wasn't a real one—just gold paper and sparkly glue and peridot-colored beads I borrowed (stole) from Maman's button jar. I made it while everyone was still asleep, using my little safety scissors and three glue sticks.
I tiptoed into her room, climbed on the bed, and placed it on her head while she was still dozing.
She blinked awake and smiled, half-dreamy. "What's this?"
I kissed her forehead. "You're my princess."
She pulled me close and whispered, "Then you're my moonbeam queen."
We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, until the light filled her room.
She let me brush her hair after that—long strokes, careful and soft. I braided little pieces and added sparkly barrettes. She said I was ridiculous. She said it so sweetly.
Later that day, I wrote another note in my blue notebook:
"We already have our castle. It's made of afternoons and piano songs and poems and promises."
And next to it, I drew a doodle of her hand in mine, with a little ring glowing like a star.