Camille wasn’t just a quirky mermaid-shaped bag—she was the one thing Lily grabbed whenever she needed confidence.
That summer, Lily moved from Chicago to a small California town, far away from everything familiar. She didn’t know a single person, and the idea of starting over felt heavier than the July heat.
On her first weekend, Lily decided to take a walk to the community pool. She swung Camille over her shoulder, letting the pearl strap bounce with each step. Camille’s sparkly tail shimmered in the sun, catching the attention of a group of girls lounging by the water.
One of them—Sophie—stood up and said,
“Okay, that is the coolest bag I’ve ever seen. Where’d you get her?”
Lily laughed for the first time in weeks.
“Her name’s Camille. She’s my good-luck charm.”
The girls invited Lily to sit with them, and soon she found herself sharing stories, jokes, and plans for a beach bonfire that night. Sophie even declared Lily “the official mermaid of the friend group.”
By the end of the week, Camille had joined Lily on bike rides, gelato runs, and late-night talks under fairy lights. Everywhere Lily went, Camille sparked conversations and smiles—opening doors Lily didn’t know she needed.
On the last night before school started, Lily looked at Camille hanging on her chair and whispered,
“Thanks for helping me find my people.”
Because sometimes, second chances don’t look like big dramatic moments.
Sometimes, they look like a sparkly mermaid bag named Camille.
