Clear Lake Academy holds some of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting another building on fire, which just so happened to be a commun...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Hey girl! Come here." I held my arms open, welcoming the tight embrace.
Isabella's hands curled around my neck, body squeezing around me as she hugged with all her might. I stood, slipping my arms around her, gently picking her up.
"I missed you, dory." She whispered, lips pressing softly against my cheek in a light kiss.
"I missed you too, munchkin." I glanced past her to where Adir staring out at the darkening horizon — he was accompanying me to an exciting visit home. We had been half way there when we had passed Isabelle's house and I couldn't resist knocking and quickly saying hi.
The small girl openly stared at the healing stitches on the side of my head. A week had passed since the ordeal. The chaos had faded, replaced by quiet routines and careful movements. We were healing. Slowly. All of us in our own ways.
"Does it hurt?"
"Nope." I smiled softly.
She didn't look convinced. Her eyes shone with worry, and something else too—an unwillingness to believe that things could really be okay that quickly. Kids always knew when you were pretending.
"You can touch it if you want." I offered gently.
Her response was immediate—a firm shake of her head, curls bouncing. Absolutely not.
"It won't hurt," I reassured. "Here."
I took her hand, placing her finger along the small stitches. She hesitated, gaze flickering between my eyes and the stitches as if waiting for me to change my mind. Slowly she placed a tentative finger on the closed wound.
I clamped my lips together, tightening my arm around her, to stop myself from dramatically flinching away.
She'd probably faint from terror if I joked about.
I know Adir would have pissed himself.
Now that Bentley wasn't here, the poor lad had inherited the title of Head of Security. If Bentley was the chief of overprotectiveness, Adir had always been his right-hand man.
I bent down, placing her back on the ground. Adir noticed. Of course he did. He walked over, quietly steering Isa towards the car.
Isa went willingly, slipping her tiny hands into his larger one. She chattered the entire way, words tumbling out faster than her thoughts could organize them. Their joined hands swung between them, her arm pumping with excitement while Adir listened with that quiet patience he always seemed to hold.
I smiled from the porch, watching her animated face tilt up toward him, eyes wide and sparkling.
To my suprised, Laken rushed out of the house, flying past me — after he'd disappeared to the bathroom —and without stopping, swept Isa off her feet. He was gone a second later, sprinting away with her screaming in his ear.
