Page 38 of Nocturne

“I missed you, Ara.” His boyish voice nearly brings tears to my eyes.

The affection that he gives only me.

“Excuse me, I need to sort through a few files.” Ellie excuses herself.

I forget about Harley as my gaze drops to the child I love. I care for all the kids at the home, but with Cas, it’s different—it always has been.

His mismatched eyes, one green and one blue, look up at me, wide with trust and adoration. He reaches up and rubs my cheek with his small hand, our familiar routine—his silent way of telling me he’s still here.

Those eyes pulled me out of the dark when I thought I’d never find my way back. His quiet, steady presence gave me just enough light to keep going, towantto keep going.

Cas struggles to form connections, but he tries. He speaks little, preferring quiet corners where he sits cross-legged, immersed in the latest physics textbook I bring him. At seven years old, he devours quantum theories most adults can’t comprehend. His mind is a machine, grasping concepts far beyond his years. If anyone tested him, I’m sure his IQ would break records.

Yet, he’s been rejected five times. Five families, one after another, turned their backs on him.

Why? Because of his eyes?

Those mismatched eyes are nothing but wonder, pure beauty. But people see them as unnatural, unsettling.

I see a miracle.

He never speaks about the rejections. He simply retreats into his world of books and numbers. But I see how it chips away at him, how each rejection burrows into that brilliant mind, trying to convince him he’s unwanted.

Still, he’s braver than I’ll ever be. Every time new prospective parents visit, he gathers his courage, steps out of his shell, and hopes—only to have that hope crushed again.

How can anyone look at him and not see what I see?

How can anyone reject this perfect, beautiful boy?

Ellie’s question echoes in my mind:Why don’t you adopt him?

She asked me after the second rejection. I know why she thinks it makes sense. She sees how close Cas and I are, how he only opens up to me. She knows I can keep up with him intellectually, even if I’m not his level of genius. Ellie also sees that I’m single, with no plans to change that. She doesn’t understand why I won’t take him in.

And I can’t blame her.

But how do I explain that bringing him into my life would only ruin his? How do I tell her about the demons I fight daily, about the twisted mind I’ve developed since the kidnapping?

I’m living on borrowed time. How can I bring an innocent child into my chaos, knowing the monster I escaped might one day find me?

These excuses have circled in my mind for years, weakening every time I hold him.

Adjusting his glasses, I notice his pants are shorter and his shirt tighter. He’s outgrowing his clothes again. I’ll need to get him new ones—and for the other kids, too. I don’t want the kids to think I play favourites.

I look up when Harley clears her throat softly.

“Can I help you to the playroom?”

Her voice is husky and strong, if not for the unsure tone.

“That would be a great help. Thanks,” I smile at her.

Working at a shelter for victims like us taught me how to help women like us feel at ease. Harley must be living through nightmares, and I want her to find the same solace I did here. Maybe it’ll offer her the perspective she needs.

Cas hops off my lap and trails behind us as Harley wheels me toward the ballroom-turned-playroom. Ever the little gentleman, Cas holds back the yellow curtains for us. I smile at him, and his face lights up before he darts to his corner of the room. Gathering his things, he rushes back just as Harley settles us on a mat in the centre.

The air here is soothing.

The walls are painted in cheerful colours and donated toys fill every corner. Children run up to greet me, their laughter and giggles chasing away the lingering shadows of dread and guilt. For a moment, there’s nothing but pure, unfiltered joy.

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