Ella held the teddy bear tightly against her chest.
One ear had split, exposing a little stuffing. Her father sat opposite with a sewing kit, waiting for her to hand it over.
“You’ll change it.”
“I’m only fixing the seam.”
“That’s what you said about my room.”
Her stepmother, Denise, lowered her eyes.
Earlier that afternoon, they had packed away the faded curtains and repainted the walls. They thought Ella would be pleased.
Instead, she had come home, stood in the doorway, and asked where everything had gone.
The bear was the last thing her mother had bought her.
Her father put down the needle.
“We should have asked.”
Ella rubbed her thumb over the damaged ear.
“It doesn’t smell like her anymore.”
Nobody answered immediately.
Rain ticked against the window.
Finally, Denise said, “I have something that might help. But you can say no.”
She returned with a small cloth bag.
Inside was a scarf.
“Your dad gave me this with some clothes for donation. I thought you might want to decide about it yourself.”
Ella unfolded it.
She remembered the little blue flowers.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“I kept waiting for the right moment.”
Ella pressed it against her face.
After a while, she passed the bear to her father.
“Use brown thread.”
He nodded seriously.
Over the following week, they repainted one wall in her old color. Ella chose what returned to the shelves and what stayed in the boxes.
Denise didn’t offer decorating suggestions unless asked.
When the room was finished, Ella placed the repaired bear on her pillow.
Around its neck, she tied a narrow strip of the scarf.
The rest went into her bedside drawer, where nobody would pack it away.
End of Narrative
