Gift to Delia by Earl Knight from CIA

A young woman with a bob haircut stood on the threshold, radiating a strange combination of tenderness and strength. She was very thin, with a pale face, but despite this, her expression was truly happy, as if she had managed to forget about all the cares of the world. A certain lightness was visible in her eyes, and a soft smile played on her lips.

Jerome froze, his eyes wide, and he instinctively flinched back. It wasn't Delia. Who was this woman? He flushed to the roots of his hair, his heart pounding as his gaze met hers, light and unobtrusive. He didn't know what to think. He'd expected to see a familiar face, a familiar smile, but instead there stood a stranger.

The woman ignored his confusion. She didn't even blink, showed no sign of surprise. Her gaze was clear, almost emotionless. She said something in French, something Jerome didn't understand, and it made him feel uneasy. French was not the language he expected to hear spoken by the person he was about to meet.

"What does this mean?" flashed through my mind.

He tried to say something, but the words stuck in his throat, unable to find a way out. The woman laughed - not a sinister laugh, but a simple, lively one, as if she were enjoying her own game. And then, at the most unexpected moment, without warning, she slammed the door in his face.

Jerome stood there, his eyes wide and confused. It took him a moment to process what had just happened, and he still seemed to be in disbelief. He turned, trying to process what had just happened, and walked slowly toward the gate. Questions were all that were running through his head. Who was this woman? Why was she in Delia's house? And why did she do this?

Jerome's heart continued to beat in unison with his footsteps as he wandered down the street. His thoughts were in a tangle. He was wondering about what she had said. Or hadn't said? It was unlikely that it had. But somehow she felt so sure of herself right away, as if Jerome was not someone she wanted to meet. As if he didn't belong here.

"Why couldn't I understand her? Why couldn't I talk to her? Why didn't I ask who she was?" these questions haunted him.

He walked down the road, feeling his mood slowly worsening. All he wanted was to meet Delia, and now the only question in his head was who the hell this woman was.

He stopped suddenly, leaning against one of the pillars, and remembered how he had recently thought that everything would be different. Everything had gone wrong. Delia, the watch, this unexpected visit - everything had gotten mixed up, like some absurd dream. Jerome felt that his plan had been destroyed like sand castles, and now he had to find answers. But most importantly: was there any point in changing anything at all, or was the world around him simply throwing up unanswered questions?

He returned to the gate of the house again, standing in front of it and wondering whether he should continue to search for an answer or whether it would be better to go back and start everything from the beginning. His thoughts were confused, and he could not get rid of that strange visit of a strange woman. When he came to his senses and decided to return to Delia's house, the door suddenly opened again.

Karen, Delia's mother, appeared on the threshold. She saw Jerome and frowned. Such a puzzled expression appeared on her face that the boy immediately felt his heart beat faster. It seemed that she could not believe her eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Karen asked sternly, but her voice sounded more concerned than angry.

Jerome sighed and, a little embarrassed, asked the question that had been tormenting him since the morning:

"Can I come in?"

Karen looked at him silently. Her face showed hesitation. She could say no, she could make him leave, but something was holding her back. Finally, she sighed and, opening the door slightly, nodded.

"You can... But..." she didn't finish, her gaze was still wary.

Jerome felt a little awkward, but he stepped into the house anyway. He crossed the threshold and found himself in a familiar hallway, where the smell of freshly baked goods and floral aromas had not changed since the last time he was here. He was already prepared to hear unpleasant questions from Karen, but instead his gaze immediately fell on Delia.

She was standing in front of the mirror, holding a book under her arm, and her attention was focused on some text she was reading. Jerome didn't immediately realize what to do. He froze in place, and his legs seemed to refuse to move any further. He was at a loss, his heart began to beat even faster from embarrassment. He didn't know how to behave in such a situation at all. With each passing second, it became more and more difficult for him to find words.

But then Delia turned and her face lit up with a broad smile, so warm and affectionate that all his worries immediately disappeared. She stepped toward him and, not hiding her joy, said:

"I've been waiting for you so much, Jerome! I couldn't wait! You can't imagine how happy I am to see you!"

Her eyes were shining and her voice was full of genuine joy. Jerome felt his heart leap. He smiled back and said:

"I'm very glad to see you too, Delia."

At that moment, Delia's father, who had been standing to the side all this time and watching their meeting with interest, approached them. The man was short, slightly unshaven, and had a warm look. He looked at Jerome with a fatherly attention, but at the same time he held back a smile.

"Well, well, what an unexpected guest," he said, bowing his head slightly. "And what are you doing here, boy?"

Delia, who did not have time to answer Jerome, immediately interrupted her father, answering with the same enthusiasm as before:

"Oh, Dad, I'd like to introduce him to you! This is Jerome, he's a good friend of mine, and I thought it would be great if he met you!"