The rain was falling heavily when the woman arrived at the small house at the end of the village.

She held a baby tightly against her chest, shielding the child from the cold with her cloak. Her red hair was wet and tangled around her face, and tears mixed with the rain running down her cheeks. She looked behind her several times as she walked, as though she expected someone to appear from the darkness and take the child away from her.

When she finally reached the house, she stopped at the wooden door and listened.

There was no sound from inside except the faint cry of a baby.

The woman looked down at the child in her arms. The little girl was wrapped in a soft white blanket, her tiny face peaceful despite the cold night. A few strands of red hair rested against her forehead, and when she opened her eyes, they revealed a deep shade of blue.

The woman stared at her for a long moment.

Those eyes.

They were exactly like hers.

She touched the baby's cheek with a trembling finger, forcing herself to smile even though her heart was breaking.

"I'm sorry, my little one," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

The baby moved slightly, making a small sound. The woman immediately pulled her closer and kissed her forehead.

"If I could keep you, I would. If there were another way, I would choose it without thinking twice."

Her voice broke, and she pressed her lips together to stop herself from crying aloud.

She had imagined a different life for her daughter. A life filled with laughter, warm meals, beautiful dresses, and people who would love her without fear. She had imagined watching the little girl grow up, teaching her how to read, brushing her hair, and holding her hand on the first day she went outside alone.

But those dreams had become impossible.

Someone was looking for her, and if they found the child with her, neither of them would survive.

The woman reached beneath the blanket and pulled out a small beaded necklace. At its centre was a strange pendant shaped like a pair of wings surrounding a tiny crown. It looked old, but the metal shone faintly even in the darkness.

She hesitated before placing it around the baby's neck.

"This belongs to you," she whispered. "One day, you may understand why I had to leave you."

The baby began to cry.

The woman quickly rocked her in her arms, tears falling freely now.

"Please, don't cry. Please, my darling."

She wanted to turn around. Every part of her wanted to run away with the child and never look back. But she knew that if she stayed, it would not be safe.

With shaking hands, she wrapped the blanket more securely around the baby and placed her carefully in a small basket she had brought with her. Then she removed a piece of cloth from her pocket and tucked it inside the blanket, close to the child's body.

It was the only thing she could leave behind to help the girl remember that she had not been unwanted.

The woman raised her hand and knocked on the door.

Once,

Twice.

Then she stepped back into the shadows beside the house.

A light appeared behind the window.

"Who is there?" a man's voice called from inside.

The woman covered her mouth with her hand, terrified that the sound of her breathing might give her away.

The door opened, revealing a tall man with tired eyes and a lantern in his hand. He looked left and right before noticing the basket at his feet.

"What in the world?"

He lowered the lantern and bent down.

The baby was crying now, her little hands moving beneath the blanket.

The man stared at her in confusion.

"Who would leave a child out here in this weather?"

He looked around again, but the woman had already disappeared into the darkness.

"Someone must be mad," he muttered.

He lifted the basket and carried it inside.

Behind him, hidden beneath the trees, the woman watched until the door closed.

"Live, Anna," she whispered into the rain. "No matter what happens, you must live."

Then she turned and walked away.

She did not look back again.

Inside the house, the man called Samuel carefully carried the basket to the fireplace. His wife, Constance, appeared from the adjoining room, tying the belt of her dressing gown.

"What is that?" she asked sleepily.

Samuel looked at her.

"A baby."

Constance blinked in shock. "A baby?"

"Someone left her at our door."

Constance hurried closer and stared into the basket. For a brief moment, surprise softened her face. Then her expression changed.

"Who would leave a child here?"

"I don't know. I looked outside, but there was nobody there."

"Then take her to the village guard."

Samuel glanced down at the baby. She had stopped crying and was looking up at him with wide blue eyes.

"At this hour? In this weather?" he asked. "She might not survive the night."

"And what do you expect us to do with her?"

Samuel had no answer.

Their house was already full of children. Five young ones needed food, clothes, and attention, and money was never enough. Constance had complained about their expenses for weeks, and he knew another mouth to feed would only make things worse.

Still, he could not bring himself to carry the baby back outside.

"Just for tonight," he said quietly. "We will decide what to do in the morning."

Constance folded her arms.

"That is what you always say when you want to bring trouble into this house."

But she did not insist.

Samuel sat beside the fireplace, holding the baby carefully in his arms. He had forgotten how small children could be. Her fingers curled around one of his, and he found himself smiling despite his worries.

"Well, little one," he murmured, "it seems you have chosen a strange place to arrive."

The baby stared at him.

He looked down at her red hair and blue eyes, then at the little pendant resting against her chest.

"Anna," he said, noticing the name written on the small piece of cloth tucked inside her blanket. "Is that your name?"

The baby made a soft sound.

Samuel chuckled.

"Then Anna it is."

Constance watched them from across the room, her expression unreadable.

For now, Anna was simply a baby who had been left on a doorstep.

A child with no known family.

A child with no place in the world.

And a child whose life had already been decided by secrets she was too young to understand