Spring came, and summer passed. The Ugly Duckling struggled to live. He did not only struggle with surviving the harsh winter, but he also struggled with being alone. Oh, how lonesome loneliness was! How lonesome it was to be ugly and unloved!

By the time Hrodwyn and Merethel arrive home, Hgyd’s boots are in the boot tray, her coat is hanging by the front door, and she herself is curled up in her bed, facing the wall, with a small owl plush to her chest — the plush she swears she remembers her father giving to her in Canada.

Swathed in her blanket, she listens to Hrodwyn scold Merethel from the living room. Merethel eventually sighs and opens the bedroom door.

“Hygd? I’m sorry…”

Hygd stays still and says nothing.

Another sigh, but not one of frustration. “I mean it, Hygd. I’m sorry. That was unfair and mean of me to say to you.”

“...I’m sorry for calling you stupid, too.”

She hears Merethel step closer. “It’s fine. I deserved that. But don’t make it a habit.”

A hint of a smile grows on Hygd’s lips. She forces it away. “You should say sorry to daa, too. He doesn’t deserve what you said.”

“Well, he isn’t here, is he?”

“That’s besides the point!” Hygd finally moves. She sits up to frown at Merethel from her upper bunk. “It’s still mean.”

Merethel opens his mouth, then changes his mind. “Okay, whatever. Believe what you want, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Hygd shrinks beneath her blanket. She curls back up in her bed.

“...Jisha-vosha’s going to order pizza for dinner, by the way,” Merethel starts. “What do you want? Cheese pizza, as usual?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks,” Hygd mumbles.

Merethel leaves. Hrodwyn enters to check in on Hygd afterwards. They comfort her to the best of their abilities with their strong face and gentle words. But Hygd knows that there’s only one thing that can comfort her now.

When Hrodwyn leaves the bedroom, when the background noise of TV chatter begins, Hygd slips out to go into the adjacent bedroom — her father’s room. Standing by a wall is the same, familiar suitcase. She lowers it, opens it, and sits on the floor across it. The suitcase is mostly empty — most of its possessions have been moved to dressers and shelves. But what she hoped to find remains in the suitcase’s hollow shell: the family photo album, sitting dejected amid dark and dust.

Album in hand, she returns to her bedroom as silently as she left it. She climbs into her bed, nestles herself into her cove of pillows and blankets, and opens the album.

Hygd has long memorised the order of photographs in this album, but she still finds comfort in its predictability and its familiar faces. First, there are photographs of domed buildings, street markets, and green parks. These backdrops eventually feature people: there’s daa, there’s Auntie Elmira, and there’s Her. Next are photographs of her much-younger father. They are all candid, except for the one of him lying in bed with a thick book in hand. He looks straight at the camera, extremely bored.

Hygd grins. It’s one of her favourite pictures of her father, and it’s one of her earliest memories of him — his gentle smile when Hygd showed him the photograph, his soft laugh as he told the story behind it. And the warmth he exuded only shone brighter when Hygd showed him photographs from the album’s next section.

Instead of chasing him, the white birds welcomed and accepted him. What a surprise! How could this be?

Hygd’s eyes always linger on this section. It contains multiple photographs of a figure with Hygd’s orange hair and Hygd’s large eyes. In one photograph, She writes at a desk. In another, She’s curled up with a book. Hygd’s favourite is one where She looks straight at Hygd and blows a kiss at her.

The Ugly Duckling looked at his reflection in the water. His reflection looked like one of the beautiful white birds. Why was this white bird so close to him?

Hygd carefully traces Her face. She wonders if she will sound like Her.

She continues going through the old photo album. There are more photographs of her father, Her, and the life they once lived. Hygd immerses herself in these pockets of time, imagining the sepia-tinted rooms making up the four walls she spent her days in, trying to steal the memories of the smiling faces that existed long before she did.

But the more she tries, the more she claws a hole in herself. There were still so many faces she didn’t know, so many names she was never told, even if they once shared her blood. But her older siblings and her father know them all. Jisha-vosha, vosha, daa: they all got to talk to these people and hug them and hold their hands. They know all about little things that made memories of these people come to life. Hygd doesn’t. She never will. Not if Hrodwyn keeps saying she’s too young to know some things about their family. Not if Merethel keeps telling things that she believes, with all her heart, are wrong.

But even if they do tell her everything one day, will she feel the same way as her family did in the photographs?

The beautiful white birds asked why the Ugly Duckling wasn't joining them. Stay with us, they said!

The last photograph in the album is the one Hygd looks at most. There are many family pictures in the album, but there is only one with Hygd. She was an infant, and she was sitting in Her lap. After that, nothing.

Hygd lies down. She closes the photo album. She hugs it, wraps her blanket around her tight, and imagines her family embracing her to sleep.

The Once-Ugly Duckling played with the beautiful swans. They swam together and ate together. He had never been so happy!