“It’s still the same,” Gigi whispered, staring at the quaint little cottage in front of her. Countless hours of suppressed giggles and soft footsteps echoed in her mind. It had been ten years, and the woodland cottage still stood, frozen in time. Gigi took a hesitant step forward, feeling that if she moved too fast, the world around her would shatter like a broken mirror.

You're not supposed to be here. The trees whispered in the same deep tones they always had. They always spoke in his voice. Gigi paused, glancing up at the trees, to watch the sunlight filter through them one last time. A wisp of golden hair fell into her eyes. Goldilocks. That’s what they used to call her. She chuckled softly.

“I know Papa Bear.” She mused, “I’ll be gone soon.” Her hand rested on the doorknob. The same golden one she never used because it was easier to clamber through the window. As the smell of pine filled her nostrils, she remembered Mama Bear and her haggard broom. She had taken to keeping it by the door just to keep Gigi away. The same broom rested loyally by the door, now without purpose.

Three bowls sat on the dining table, absent of their steaming porridge. The living room still had only three pieces of furniture. Gigi walked over to the smallest chair and fingered it fondly. How did I ever fit in this little thing? She mused. It was all a dream, being back here again, or something much like it. She fixated on the three blue doors; she left them all open once, just to admire the way the light filtered through the windows and danced through the room and right out into the middle of the sitting room floor.

A puddle of light pouring in from the thatched roof caught her eyes. It pooled on the wooden floor and brought back echoes of two children with it. They were giggling and chasing each other around and around the little pond, careful not to touch it. The little girl’s melodic laughter filled Gigi’s ears as she drowned in the memory.

“You touched it! You touched it!” Little Bear exclaimed triumphantly.

“No, I didn’t!” Goldilocks whined back.

“You did too! I won!” Little Bear argued, “Momma, you saw that. She touched it!” Mother Bear looked up from her seat at the table. She seemed perturbed, but the children didn’t notice.

“Yes, yes, darling,” She gestured the question away. Deciding it wasn’t important. Goldilocks groaned and lay spread out on the floor, right in the middle of the light puddle. Little Bear danced around her for a moment before collapsing next to her.

“It’s alright, Goldi.” He said, “You can win next time.”

“No, I can’t! The light fairies hate me.” She grumbled. “It’s the end of the line, Libbi. Valhalla can just accept me now.” She put her hand to her head dramatically and stuck her little tongue out in defeat. Little Bear grinned and tried not to giggle. His efforts came to no avail, for he burst out laughing. Goldilocks came back to life just to join his laughter. Soon they were both curled on the floor, unable to stop the barrage of giggles. Finally, the laughter stopped, and both the children lay on the floor, gasping for air.

The front door opened with a creak, and Papa Bear lumbered in, his hunting bag slung over his shoulder. He attempted to step over the doormat, but Mama bear yelped at him angrily. His shoulders slumped as he brushed his feet off reluctantly. When he noticed the small figures on the floor, an amused smile spread across his face.

“What’s this?” He wondered. The children watched him thud across the living room. Papa bear crouched down on the floor. “No wonder Mama was upset. Her least favorite visitor is here.” He continued in a stage whisper, “Don’t worry, Goldilocks, you’re my favorite. Mama just doesn’t understand you.” Mama Bear shot him a glare as Goldilocks giggled.

“Rupert.” She chastised, “Come here for a moment.” Something about the look on her face made Papa Bear go rigid.

“I’ll be back in a second, you two,” He poked Little Bear and Goldilocks in the stomachs and pushed himself to his feet. Little Bear watched him pad over to Mama Bear, confused. Goldilocks had busied herself with trying to pull up one of the floorboards. Little Bear crawled over to her, his momentary worry giving way to curiosity.

“What are you doing?” He asked. Goldilocks yanked at the floorboard.

“Making excuses,” She said as she pried it open and peered inside. She glanced back at Mama and Papa Bear in the kitchen; they were now talking in harsh, hushed tones.

“What kind of excuses?” Little Bear pondered. Goldilocks grabbed the pendant hanging around her neck and removed it carefully. She placed it under the floorboard soundlessly.

“The important kind,” She grinned at Little Bear through her golden curls, like she knew she was sharing one last secret. She replaced the floorboard just as the older bears were done whispering.

“Goldilocks, Little Bear,” Papa Bear said, pity dripping off his voice like honey, “We need to talk to you.” Little Bear hopped to his feet and rushed over to his mother and father. He hoped there was a special surprise in store. Goldilocks followed, hands folded neatly in front of her. Fear gripped her little heart and threatened to never let go. Mama Bear watched Goldilocks carefully, and compassion for the poor girl welled deep in her heart. She knew what was coming.

“Goldilocks,” Papa Bear said softly, “You know we love you, right?” Goldi nodded.

“We love you,” Mama Bear continued, “But you can’t come anymore. It’s too dangerous for you in these woods. The plague is only spreading, and it makes the forest sick. If you keep coming, you’ll become one of the blighted. Besides, your parents don’t want you here, sweet girl.” Goldilocks nodded again. Little Bear finally understood what was happening. He began to protest, but his mother cut him off.

The door suddenly burst open, and in came four towering mages. They cornered the bears and grabbed Goldilocks by the arm. She didn’t understand why they were there. She couldn’t fathom why they were treating the bears like wild animals.

“Come on,” The mage who had grabbed her was pulling her away from the cottage, “You're safe now, you ungrateful little girl! Come on!” He dragged her out the green door with the golden knob. She sobbed and cried out, struggling to make it back to Little Bear, and Mama and Papa.

“Let me go! Let me go!” She bit at his hand, “Mama, Papa! Libby! No. I’m sorry! I didn’t know! No, no, no!”

“Don’t come back!” Papa bear broke out of the house, calling out to her, “Save Yourself!” Before disappearing behind the mages again.

A single tear fell to the floor and into the puddle of light, shattering the memory. Gigi pulled up the floorboard with shaking hands. She reached into the hole and pulled out a pendant. She watched the amber bear glimmer in the light.

“I’m sorry, Papa.” She murmured, “I came back. I know I promised I wouldn’t.” Gigi wished she knew what happened to him, Mama, and Little Bear. She wished she could keep her promises. She wished she didn’t have to go. Sometimes she wished she hadn’t survived the plague. But she wished a lot of things. How did that saying always go? Life was a perfect graveyard of broken wishes? That seemed right. Gigi rose to her feet and surveyed the cottage.

She breathed in deeply. This wasn’t the end. She still had her whole life ahead of her. She knew they survived; she knew they still loved her. Little Bear’s trinket was gone, but hers was still there. He found his and left hers. He knew she’d come back. So maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance at mending her broken mirrors.