Moonlight filtered through the leaves of the ancient oak tree, shining silvery shards of light onto the three girls seated directly beneath its gnarled, misshapen branches.
For as long as the girls could remember, the tree had been referred to as the dragon tree. Their mother had told them the tree had been struck by lightning dozens of times, resulting in blackened twisted branches and dense foliage that through the spring and summer grew in the shape of a dragon. In the autumn, the magnificent beast appeared to shed fire-colored scales.
Rather than be frightened, the three girls had embraced the tree, fitting it into their childhood fantasies of princes and castles, of princesses and love. And the words, “the dragon tree,” had become their secret code…a phrase that always resulted in a late night meeting at its foot.
“What’s going on?” Colette, the youngest of the three, looked expectantly at her two other sisters. At twelve, Colette possessed the impatience of a newborn colt trying to stand. She leaned against the trunk of the tree, slivers of moonbeams highlighting her youthful features.
“Yeah, Abby. What’s going on? Why’d you call us here?” Belinda asked. At thirteen years old, Belinda was the middle sister, often the peacemaker between the slightly spoiled Colette and the often controlling Abby.
Fifteen-year-old Abby wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth, the moonlight caressing her straight nose and the strong thrust of her jaw. “I found some papers today in Mom’s dresser drawer.”
“What kind of papers?” Belinda asked.
Abby looked first at Belinda, then at Colette. “Adoption papers.”
The words hung in the air, seemingly isolated from the other sounds of the night. Although they had been whispered, they resounded louder than the lowing of the cattle in the distance, more pronounced than the high-pitched neigh of a horse from the nearby corral and much more frightening than the eerie echoing howl of a coyote in the hills.
“Adoption papers?” Belinda finally broke the silence. “Adoption papers for who?”
“I didn’t look.” Abby pulled a hand through her short blond hair. “It was just a manila envelope and written on it was ‘adoption papers.’ I saw it, then heard Mom coming down the hall so I didn’t get a chance to open it. I went back in later to look, but the papers weren’t there anymore.”
“But…but that means one of us must be…”
“No,” Colette interrupted. “No, I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t even want to think about it.” She leaned forward and reached for Abby’s hand, then grabbed Belinda’s, as well. “We’re sisters. The three of us and no stupid papers will ever change that.”
“Belinda? Do you feel the same way about it?” Abby asked.
Belinda squeezed both her sisters’ hands. “Of course. I don’t ever want to know which one of us might be in that folder.”
Abby withdrew her hands and reached into her pocket. “I was hoping you guys would say that.” She pulled out a large safety pin. “I vote we become blood sisters and we vow we’ll never try to find out which one of us might be adopted.” She opened the wicked-looking pin, the sharp point gleaming in the moonlight. Colette and Belinda watched as she pricked her skin. As the blood welled up on her fingertip, she handed the pin to Belinda, who did the same and passed the pin to Colette.
Colette frowned, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Do it for me, Belinda,” she said, holding out her finger and squeezing her eyes tightly closed.
A squeal escaped her at the sharp sting of the puncture. She opened her eyes, keeping her gaze on her sisters and averted from the blood.
“Sisters forever,” Abby proclaimed solemnly, holding her finger toward them.
“Sisters forever,” Belinda echoed, pressing her finger against Abby’s.
“And no matter what happens, we never read those stupid papers,” Colette exclaimed. She waited for Abby and Belinda to nod their heads in agreement, then added her finger to theirs, forming a triangle of unity.
With the innocence of youth and the optimism of girlhood, they truly believed it was a vow they could keep. In the distance, thunder rumbled, sounding like Fate’s laughter as dark clouds moved to steal the moonlight from the sky.