The lakehouse had grown loud with chatter after dinner, but for Sophie it all felt like noise that didn’t belong to her. Her cousins were busy with basketball, or teasing each other, or comparing how the medallion had changed them. The grown-ups were still laughing in the kitchen, trading stories and inside jokes about old times.
Sophie sat on the steps of the deck, chin in her hands, her pink Easter basket resting beside her. It was almost empty. She’d given most of her candy to Max, who was drooling happily in the grass, nosing through wrappers in hopes of finding more.
She sighed.
When she’d first heard that Mathew and Markus were coming, she had been excited. They were close to her age, and when they’d arrived in their frilly dresses as Maddie and Molly, Sophie’s heart had soared. Finally, another girl — well, two — who would giggle with her, twirl around, and chase butterflies instead of basketballs.
And for a few hours, it had been perfect. They’d played house. They’d dressed their dolls in new clothes Sophie had brought in a little suitcase. They’d even whispered secrets that only girls their age thought were important — like which Disney princesses were the best at swordfighting, and who would make the better mermaid.
But now, the twins had gone back. They weren’t Maddie and Molly anymore. They were Mathew and Markus again, running around in the grass with William, John, and Lucas, daring each other to climb higher and jump farther.
They were laughing so hard it made Sophie feel invisible.
She tried to join once. She’d brought her doll over, hoping maybe they could still pretend a little, or maybe one of them would sit with her on the dock and dip their toes in the water. But Markus had been halfway up a tree by then, and Mathew had been trying to get William’s attention by bouncing the basketball against the side of the house.
Sophie had turned away before anyone noticed the sting in her eyes.
Now, as the twilight painted the lake pink and gold, she sat alone.
Inside, Jessica noticed her daughter’s absence. She stepped out, holding a plate with a slice of carrot cake.
“Sweetheart?” she asked softly. “Why aren’t you with your cousins?”
Sophie shrugged, keeping her chin low. “They don’t want to play what I want to play.”
Jessica sat beside her, placing the cake between them like an offering. “Well, what do you want to play?”
“Not… climbing trees or basketball.” Sophie hugged her knees. “I liked when they were girls. It was fun. But now it’s just me again.”
Jessica tilted her head, understanding dawning. This wasn’t just a case of her daughter being left out — it was loneliness, deep and sharp.
“You miss Maddie and Molly,” Jessica said gently.
“They said they don’t want to do it again,” Sophie whispered. “They said dresses itch. And they wanna be boys now. But then it’s just me. The only girl.” She pouted. “It’s not fair.”
Jessica smoothed Sophie’s hair. “Sometimes it feels that way, doesn’t it?”
Sophie’s eyes darted to her mother’s purse, where she knew the medallion was tucked away. “Mommy… could I…” She hesitated, biting her lip. “Could I maybe… use it?”
Jessica’s brow furrowed. “Use it how?”
Sophie took a deep breath, the words tumbling out. “To be like them. If they don’t want to be girls with me… then I could be boys with them. Then I wouldn’t be left out.”
Jessica blinked. She hadn’t expected that.
“Sweetie,” she said carefully, “you know it’s a big change. You’d be—”
“I don’t care,” Sophie cut in, her little fists clenched. “I’m bored. I’m lonely. And if I was like them, they’d have to play with me. Please, Mommy? Just for a little while?”
Jessica hesitated. The medallion wasn’t a toy. But she also saw the desperation in her daughter’s eyes, the ache of being the odd one out. Sophie wasn’t asking for mischief. She was asking for belonging.
Jessica exhaled, then nodded slowly. “We’ll need to ask your cousins first. If they agree, then… maybe.”
Sophie’s face lit up like the sunrise. She grabbed her mother’s hand and tugged her toward the yard.
The boys were still horsing around, but they stopped when Jessica cleared her throat.
“Mathew, Markus,” she called, her arm around Sophie. “Your cousin has something she’d like to ask you.”
Sophie shuffled her feet. “Um… I was wondering… since you guys don’t wanna be girls again, maybe… I could be like you. So I wouldn’t be the only one left out.”
Mathew and Markus glanced at each other, identical grins spreading across their faces.
“Wait,” Markus said, pointing at her. “You wanna be one of us?”
Sophie nodded eagerly. “Yes! Then I wouldn’t be bored anymore.”
Mathew tilted his head, considering. “Well, it beats Mom making us wear dresses again…”
“Yeah,” Markus agreed. “And you were nice to us when we were stuck as girls. You didn’t laugh or anything.”
Jessica raised an eyebrow. “So you’re okay with it?”
The twins smirked, speaking almost in unison as they often did. “Sure. We’ll teach her how to be a boy. It’ll be fun.”
“Then he can even sleep in our room,” Markus added, elbowing Mathew. “We’ll be triplets.”
Sophie’s face glowed with happiness.
Mathew grinned wider, tugging his T-shirt over his head and handing it to her. “Here. This’ll do it.”
Jessica hesitated, medallion still in her hand. “Are you sure about this, Sophie?”
Sophie nodded furiously, clutching the shirt like treasure. “Yes! I want to!”
Jessica sighed and pressed the medallion to the fabric.
A shimmer of light surrounded Sophie, making her giggle nervously as her body tingled all over. She glanced down as her arms lengthened, her shoulders widened, and the shirt that had hung loose on Mathew now fit snugly on her. Her voice squeaked as she gasped:
and she now he was now a boy and a triplet now!
with now his brothers one of them said "i think Sam suits you better now being a guy like us?
with the other saying "yer no girl names if you going to be one of us now lets get some clothes for you!"
