THE SOUL’S RETURN
Clara couldn’t quite explain it, but she felt as if the soul of her mother had found its way into this little girl. Normally, Clara didn’t believe in mystical things, but there were just too many coincidences to ignore.
The girl was born eight months after Clara’s mother passed away—perhaps the soul lingered elsewhere before returning to this world, who could say? It seemed of little importance until you considered that the girl was born on her mother’s birthday, exactly forty-six years later.
The coincidences didn’t stop there. Clara had been hired as a nanny for the girl. This was her second nanny job—her first was looking after her classmate’s younger sister, and now she was here. Clara didn’t plan to be a nanny forever; she wanted to study psychology at university but hadn’t been admitted in her first or second attempt. She was sure she’d succeed on her third try. Working in a shop or as a waitress was unappealing, but being a nanny felt like pure joy. Thanks to a glowing reference, the young woman who hired Clara agreed to take her on, albeit on a trial basis, and Clara was upfront about her plans to go to university in a year. The girl’s mother, Emily, who was five years older than Clara, immediately suggested they drop formalities.
“That’s great, by then Annabelle will start going to a special nursery,” Emily reassured her. “She’s quite advanced and could have started sooner, but I worry, and she has daily lessons. I didn’t mention before, but she has a particular condition—I hope it’s not an issue for you as many nannies get scared of disabilities or demand fees I can’t afford.”
Clara imagined something serious, perhaps a cleft palate awaiting surgery, or maybe epilepsy.
“Annabelle has sensorineural hearing loss; it’s genetic…”
Clara smiled and cut in.
“No need to explain, I know what it is, it runs in my family too.”
“That’s why I contacted you. A mutual friend mentioned your mom had the same condition, so I figured you wouldn’t be alarmed.”
Clara wasn’t daunted; modern devices could nearly restore normal hearing, unlike her mother’s time when they communicated using sign language.
The last coincidence was that Annabelle looked strikingly similar to her mother as a child, with those same dark eyes, arched eyebrows as if in perpetual surprise, and unruly curls. Clara even asked her father for her mother’s old photo albums—indeed, Annabelle was her spitting image! When Clara shared this with her dad, he just chided her gently:
“Sweetheart, you’re just missing your mum. Mystical nonsense, really. You need to focus on having your own kids!”
Clara blushed; she’d met a boy named Paul at prep courses and had been on three dates with him. But talking about children seemed premature. Her father seemed to read her by her rosy cheeks.
“By the way, have you checked if he has any hearing loss in the family?”
“Dad!”
Her parents used to tease both her and her brother, reminding them since childhood to inquire about potential partners’ genetic recessive traits causing deafness, because both she and her brother Andrew carried that gene.
“Just checking, costs nothing to ask, you know.”
Clara found it best to beat a hasty retreat.
Whether her imagination about soul transfer affected her, or perhaps the girl was just delightful and well-developed, Clara grew fondly attached and dreaded the thought of leaving. Maybe her dad was right, maybe she should start a family of her own? But she still dreamt of education…
Unexpectedly, she brought this up with Emily, who spent long hours at work to provide a decent life for herself and her daughter.
“You must study!” Emily insisted. “I had to quit university because of my pregnancy, and now I’m stuck at a certain level. It’s frustrating; I’m more experienced and knowledgeable than new graduates who do little more than shuffle papers around.”
“And her father?” Clara asked cautiously. In four months on the job, the little girl’s dad hadn’t been mentioned.
“There is no father,” Emily replied.
“How come?”
“He doesn’t know she exists. We met when I was visiting a friend for a week in another city; it was love at first sight. We hoped to meet again; either he’d visit me, or I’d go to him. But it didn’t happen—he broke things off by email, saying we couldn’t be together, I deserved someone better, and all that.”
“That’s tough… And you didn’t know you were pregnant?”
“I didn’t. Found out a week later. But I’m glad I decided to keep her,” Emily smiled. “Never once regretted it.”
“Annabelle is wonderful. She reminds me so much of my mum,” Clara suddenly confessed.
Emily chuckled.
“You and Annabelle have a karmic connection, I’ve noticed that for a while.”
“I told my dad, and he laughed it off, saying I should have children of my own.”
“Study first, then think about kids,” Emily advised. “Don’t end up like me.”
On New Year’s, Clara and her father planned to visit her brother in a nearby city—he was head of a department at a travel agency and couldn’t take extended leave. Clara had only visited once and loved his stunning apartment on the fifteenth floor with a beautiful view. She bought Annabelle a special gift—a teddy bear reminiscent of her mother’s—and was pleased when the girl announced it would be her sleep companion.
Set in her brother’s cozy kitchen and casually chatting, Clara received a message from Emily with a picture of Annabelle sweetly sleeping with the bear in her arms. Clara got teary and showed the photo to Andrew, retelling the story of the karmic bond and soul’s return.
“Clara, seriously? Soul’s return?”
“Listen, Annabelle is more like our mom than her own mother is! Look!”
She pulled up a selfie of herself, Annabelle, and Emily from the day before, handing it to her brother. After a long look, he asked in a strained voice:
“What’s her name?”
“Annabelle. I told you. Not exactly mum’s name.”
“No, I mean the woman.”
“Emily. Why?”
Andrew swallowed hard.
“And Annabelle’s hearing? Everything alright?”
“Thanks for paying attention,” Clara said dryly. “I told you, she has a hearing aid! The similarity is uncanny! Emily’s father’s condition matches our mom’s; it’s not soul transfer, it’s genetics, but think about it…”
Andrew leapt up, pacing the room.
“How old is she? When was she born?”
“Why do you ask?” Clara started but then gasped, covering her mouth. Whispering so as not to jinx the revelation, she asked, “Emily said that he broke up by email, not knowing about the child. Was it you???”
The next day, they were all three on a flight back, having nabbed the last few tickets. Their dad wiped tears, beaming at photos of his newfound granddaughter, while Andrew bit his lip like he did when he was little, repeatedly asking Clara about Emily and Annabelle. Clara alone was calm—she knew everything would turn out alright. After all, who was to say the soul’s return wasn’t real?
