I was still steaming mad when it was time for lunch. Luckily, Derrick had recently spotted a new kind of bird up on the rooftop and spent at least half the meal filling his sister and me in on information about it. His enthusiasm gave me an idea, however.

Since I needed to speak to Elyse alone, I asked Gretchen if someone could accompany Derrick up to the roof.

As usual, Gretchen came through. Before lunch was even over, she’d found a retired groundskeeper who, in her words, knew more about birds than the author of that book Derrick carried everywhere.

“If he’s retired, why is he here?”

“He lives just outside of town, miss, and still visits occasionally. He says he’d love to see Prince Derrick’s pigeon coops.”

Derrick seemed quite pleased with the arrangement, and after lunch he happily headed up there with the old man with a kind smile. Elyse trailed behind me as I walked to the playroom, however, I didn’t go inside. Instead, I grabbed a bag by the door and asked if we could go to her room. She shrugged, which was about as much of an answer as I usually got.

Once inside, she went to the little table by the window and sat down. I settled on the bed, unsure where to begin. There was a book next to the little girl, but she didn’t pick it up. She seemed to be waiting for me to speak, which surprised me a little. However, it probably shouldn’t have. Just because she didn’t talk much didn’t mean she didn’t pay attention to what was going on around her.

Taking a deep breath, I dove in. “Elyse… I know you don’t feel comfortable talking to me, and that’s okay. You don’t have to talk to anyone you don’t want to. But… I’d like to speak to you, and it would make me so happy if you would listen. You don’t have to respond, you just have to listen. Would you please do that?”

After a few seconds, she nodded.

“Thank you.” I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “I never told you this, but my mother died when I was a little girl, too. I was a little older than you, but… it was hard. It was the hardest thing I ever faced. I loved her so much, and then she was just gone.”

Elyse was staring at the table, her hands trembling slightly.

“I was lucky. I had my sister to help me through it. Nothing made the pain go away completely, but talking about it helped.”

I sighed. “You have a lot of people you can talk to, Elyse. Your dad. Your brother. Gretchen. Your grandmother. It doesn’t have to be me, but it should be somebody. Some things in life are just too hard to handle on your own. And if you don’t talk about them, those feelings get stuck inside you, and sometimes they make you sick.”

Bringing my bag with me, I moved over to the table, balancing on a child-sized chair across from her. Elyse’s head was bowed, her gorgeous hair in a sophisticated topknot. “Please, Elyse, please talk to someone. Everyone here loves you and wants what’s best for you. Please try.”

Her silence was expected, but thought I saw her give a tiny nod.

“I’m not qualified to tell you how to feel better. I think there isn’t just one specific way. But I do remember that when I was a little girl, sometimes it helped to focus on things I enjoyed. Like when my sister took me for ice cream. For a few minutes, I could think about something else instead of how much it hurt. You don’t have to forget the pain, but maybe sometimes you can try to let it fade in the background for a short time. Like the background of a movie.”

“Another thing that helped was knowing there were people around who cared about me. There are so many people here who care about you and who want to help you. One of those people is me. I know I can’t take away your pain, but I thought of something that might help you push it in the background for a while. So I got you this.”

I opened the bag and pulled out a toy bow. Elyse’s eyes widened as I placed it and a quiver of toy arrows on the table in front of her. Instantly, she picked the bow up, running her fingers over it. She held it in both hands and closed one eye, pretending to take aim as she drew back the string.

I handed her an arrow with a suction cup on the tip. “Just one thing to remember. It’s a toy, but don’t ever point it at someone’s face.” Elyse nodded. “And whatever you do, please don’t use it to hunt Derrick’s birds.”

She giggled which almost made me drop the other arrows. Then she shocked me further by asking a question. “Where did you get this?”

Five words—she’d actually said five words in a row to me. “My sister found it at a toy store in California.”

“California?”

“Yes. See? I told you people cared about you—even ones who don’t know you. They want you to be happy.”

I put the tote bag on the table. “And this was sent to you from London.”

Elyse looked up at me, briefly making eye contact before opening the bag and reaching in. Her mouth dropped open—likely surprised by the springy texture she encountered. Then a grin split her face as she pulled out a massive amount of red curls.

She held the wig up to her head and stared at the way the corkscrew curls cascaded over her arms. “Princess Merida!” she exclaimed.

I’d sent my friend Frankie many pictures of the Disney Princess from the movie Brave, and he’d more than exceeded my expectations. The wig was high quality and small enough to fit Elyse’s head—that couldn’t have been easy to find. “There’s a dress, too.”

With wonder, Elyse pulled out the full-length, teal gown with gold trim. Her mouth open, she stared at it, running her fingers across the fabric. I couldn’t wait to tell Frankie how much the little girl liked it.

Elyse carefully laid the dress on the table, unfolding and smoothing it out. Once that was done, she placed the wig above the neckline and put the bow by one of the sleeves.

“Would you like me to help you put it on?”

She didn’t answer, seeming content to stare at the costume.

“That’s fine if you just want to look at it for a while. But if you’d like to put it on, let me know. I can help you with the wig.” I folded up the empty tote bag and stood up, unable to resist smiling at the way the princess was fixated on the costume. “I’m going to see if Derrick’s back. We’ll be in the playroom if you want to join us.”

With one last glance at the joy on her face, I turned away. However, I stopped at the door when I heard a noise behind me. It sounded like a chair scraping on the floor.

And then I heard it: “Thank you… Cara.”

“You’re welcome, Elyse.”

I grinned as I exited the room.

Back in the playroom, I found Derrick talking animatedly with the retired groundskeeper, Wilhelm. Insisting I sit down, Derrick regaled me with what he’d learned about his new friend. “He used to train falcons! They landed on his arm and hunted and everything!”

“That’s impressive,” I said, smiling at the old man. “Nico showed me the old mews when we were walking on the grounds.”

Wilhelm smiled back. “I worked in that building for many years, miss. The prince and his grandfather were very good with the birds.”

We talked for a few minutes more and then I finally convinced Derrick that it was time to let our visitor go. “Thank you so much for coming today, Wilhelm.”

“It was my pleasure, miss. There’s not a lot to do now that I’m retired.”

“You can come back,” Derrick exclaimed, and the groundskeeper and I exchanged a smile over the little boy’s head.

“Next time come for lunch,” I said.

At Derrick’s request, I found a website on falconry for him to look at. The language was pretty complex, but there were a lot of pictures and diagrams.

Once he was settled, I went back to check on Elyse. I peeked in her door, but the room was empty. She must’ve gone to see her grandmother. I sighed… I shouldn’t have expected anything else. She’d spoken to me today, and she’d said my name. That was progress. It wasn’t like I’d thought she’d suddenly open up to me. But it was a start.

I’d just turned away when I heard a noise. “Elyse?” Turning on a light, I stepped into her room. Once I’d reached the window, I noticed that the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar. “Elyse, are you in there?”

A small voice say, “Yes.”

“Can I come in?” There was no answer to that, so I knocked on the door and it opened a few more inches. I stepped inside.

Elyse was standing in front of the sink, looking in the mirror. She wore the blue dress I’d gotten her though it wasn’t zipped up all the way in the back. The red wig was on her head, but her dark, glossy hair stuck out from underneath it in several places. She tried to tuck a long strand under the wig, but it popped back out.

“Let me help.” I scooped a handful of red curls over her shoulder so I could raise her zipper. She trembled slightly at my touch, but didn’t object. “There, now it’s all zipped up. It fits well. As for the wig, there’s a trick to getting them to stay on. I learned it back when I did plays and such at school. Why don’t we go out to the vanity in your bedroom?”

She nodded and went to sit on the little stool that she used when Gretchen did her hair in the morning. I moved behind her, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m going to lift this off for just a minute, okay?”

Once the wig was off, I located a jar of bobby pins on the dresser and started pinning her hair close to her scalp. I narrated as I did, explaining what I was doing and expanding on other tricks we sometimes used in the theater. She didn’t say anything, but I could see in the mirror that she was avidly listening.

When her hair was completely pinned up, I situated the wig on her head, smiling as the red curls cascaded down her back. She looked beautiful, but in a different way than she usually did. The unruly curls made her look younger and somehow more relaxed. The loose curls were definitely a change from her normal, elaborate updo.

“What do you think?”

Elyse stared in the mirror and stroked one hand down a long strand of curls.

“Where’s the bow and arrow? Let’s see how you look with that.”

She quickly fetched the toy weapon. Then she assumed a hunter’s pose, situating an arrow and drawing back the string.

“Stay just like that…” I took out my phone, adjusted it, and snapped a picture. “Perfect. Come see.”

Elyse hurried to my side and looked. She reached out one thin finger, touching the skirt of her dress on the screen.

“You look just like Princess Merida,” I told her.

The little girl tore her eyes away from the picture and looked up at me.

Her smile was priceless.