Page 36 of Winning Brynn

Leo:Love you guys too.

Alex:*gif of screaming goat*

Roman:Wtf, Wolfe?

Alex:Sorry, it was just getting a bit sentimental for me, and I panicked.

Leo:You called that therapist yet?

Alex:Nope.

Leo:Maybe you should.

Chapter Twelve

Brynn

"It's always a joyto have you here, Brynn," Miss Jessica says with her arms around me. She gives the best hugs, always has.

Back when Alex and I were living here at the children's home, she was only in her early twenties and at the bottom of the staff hierarchy—not the house mother like she is now—but she was my favorite anyway.

She'd sit beside my bed when I had bad dreams, stroking my hair and singing Irish lullabies she had learned from her mom growing up. Like us, she lost her birth parents young but was lucky to have been adopted into a loving, if not eccentric, family of Irish immigrants.

She taught me all about the lore of butterflies, how they're believed to carry the souls still waiting for a place on Earth, how it's good luck to see one with light-colored wings because they're said to bring success, though she'd leave out the darker side of the legends. I scared easy when I was little.

Still do, actually.

"You know I love coming here," I say, stepping out of her hold to look into her eyes. "I missed you guys while I was in London."

"I bet we missed you more." She grins, and I know her words are genuine. Miss Jessica isn't one to say things she doesn't mean. "Little Ivy was in such a bad way after her last foster family brought her back here this morning. Thank you so much for coming on such short notice. She was asking for you the moment she got through the door."

My heart pangs with sadness for the little girl who, up until ten minutes ago, was a mess of wracking sobs in my lap.

I shouldn't admit this, but of the ten children here at the Poppy Fields Children's Home, Ivy is my favorite. With a shock of dark hair and eyes like lightning striking the sea, she's a tiny, beautiful package of trauma and grief, still struggling to come to terms with the sudden death of her parents two years ago.

Though, I'm not sure you ever truly come to terms with something like that.

I'm twenty-four with the most incredible adoptive parents, but even I still carry the effects of the car accident that took Alex's and my birth family away, even if I can't really remember them anymore.

Ivy's trauma slips through in her behavior. Four foster families have decided she's too much work. Four times she's been sent back to the group home. Four times she's had to experience abandonment on top of what she's already been through.

They don't understand her.

They don't see the incredible, brave, and smart six-year-old girl I see every time I come to visit.

And truth be told, if I was in a more stable position, with a house of my own and a job that didn't have me flying across the world at any given time, I'd probably adopt her.

She reminds me of me when I was her age.

"I'll always come if she needs me."

If I'm in the country, that is. God, the guilt I would have felt if this happened while I was in London.

Miss Jessica takes my face in two warm hands. "We're all so proud of you. I hope you know that. Ivy is too. She looks up to you so much, and she'd understand if you couldn't make it someday, if you were working or something. No matter how much you mean to her. I hope you know that too." The woman has always had an uncanny ability to read my mind.

"I know." I smile. "She means a lot to me too."

She presses her lips to my forehead, and it's like I'm five years old again and she's kissing away a boo boo. "Now, get going. There's a man outside waiting for you, been there for about an hour."

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