The next three weekends I spent with Busi. It was like old times and I slotted back into being part of their family. Her parents were open and warm to me, and I laughed and joked around the dinner table with her two older brothers and her younger sister, just as if I was another sibling.

I put the egg under some clothes, burying it in along with the strange feeling I got when I took it. And then I did my best to forget all about it.

My mother was thrilled I was spending time with Busi’s family. She knew how lonely and bored I got at boarding school over the weekend.

“Finally, paying me back for all the childcare I did for them!” she joked on the phone one night.

I now assumed that come Friday afternoon, I would pack my weekend bag and wait with Busi for her mom to drive up in her BMW.

“Anything special I should pack for the weekend?” I asked Busi one Thursday afternoon after hockey practice, as we peeled off our sweaty shoes and long socks.

“Um…well…” Busi shifted uncomfortably from side to side. “I’m sorry Lindi, but you’re not going to be able to come this weekend, or next.”

“Why?” I asked, trying not to show my hurt.

“My parents are having some business friends over for Sunday lunch this week, and they said they don’t want extra kids hanging around.

So that’s what I am, I thought. Just an extra kid.

“Oh,” I replied. “What about next weekend?”

“We’ve been invited to spend the weekend at a holiday house belonging to some other friends. My parents have wanted to be friends with them for ages. They’re very high up in the business.”

My shoulders slumped. “I guess I’m just not well connected or fancy enough for the black diamond family,” I replied. My voice dripped with bitterness.

“Lindi! That’s not true!” cried Busi. “You’ve spent the last three weekends with us. My parents love you.”

I picked up my shoes and socks and stomped away.

“Lindi! Wait! Wait!”

I turned around. Words gushed from me, as if flowing from a broken drain pipe. “You think it’s easy Busi? Huh? You think it’s easy seeing the way your family lives while my mother squints into the night finishing repairs on someone’s worn out trousers? Do you think it’s easy seeing the life you’ve got because my father died and yours lived? Huh? Do you have any idea what the last ten years have been like for us?”

Busi’s head dropped; she looked at the ground uncomfortably. She couldn’t deny the truth of my words.

“No, I don’t think it’s been easy,” she said, so quietly I could barely hear her.

“Well at least you can see that,” I replied. “Never mind, I’ll find something else to do over the weekends. Take up knitting or something. I won’t bother you and your family again.”

“No!” cried Busi. “Please don’t walk away from me! Having you back in my life is like breathing again. I felt I lost my sister when we left. No amount of fancy clothes, furniture, or swimming pools can replace you. Please, please visit again. It’s not my fault my parents make all these stupid social plans.”

I thought for a moment. “Okay, Busi,” I replied. “I’ll come back.”

And so, three weeks later, my weekend visits to Busi’s family resumed.

But something had changed inside me.

* * *

Tell us what you think: What has changed inside Lindi?