Little Angel

Chapter:29

Vivian Flammery.
.
.
.
.

I don't know why, but as more time passes and the time comes closer to meeting Hannah's parents, Helen and Liam Hall, the more I feel uneasy, Something is making me nervous, and I can't tell why.

I am pacing back and forth in the foyer as I wait for them to come, and Daisy is sleeping. I ask Hannah too if she is tired, but she shakes her head. Hannah's parents have been through a lot, and I didn't know how they would react, especially after seeing Hannah's mental state.

But something is telling me to stop this and not let her go or even let her meet them. Which will be unfair to her parents and to her.

Maybe it was because I became too attached to her in the little time we spent together. I always love children. I always watch kids playing in the park—not in a creepy way, but in wonder—how beautiful it will be to be a parent to have a little human who depends on you in every possible way, who turns to you whenever they are happy, sad, or scared because they trusted you that they were safe. As long as you are around, you will protect them from anything.

I was small when my parents died, but I remember a few memories with them, the happy ones, but whenever I think about them, the day of the accident plays in my head.

I shake the bed memory away and look at Hannah, who was sitting on the living room carpet and trying to read a storybook but had a deep frown on her face. She can't read properly; I just found out a few hours ago.

I will ask Gabriel to homeschool her until she learns to be around other people. After that, she can join the school. I thought.

Come on, Vivian; she was going to leave with her parents. My subconscious tells me.

I ignore her and walk into the living room. I don't like the thought of her leaving.

"Do you want me to read it for you?" I pointed toward the book and walked toward her.

She looks down at the book in her hands, gives it to me, and moves a little to give me space to sit beside her.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked not to scare her, and she nodded her head. She is more at ease now and almost reacts like a normal person, except she still hasn't said a word.

"Okay," I said, and I sat next to her.

"This book is very interesting," I said when I read the title.

'The Mortal Instruments' is one of my favorite books, especially the TV series they made of it.

"Gabriel had brought the whole series for me." I tell her, chuckling, that he had filled the library with different gernes and to say that I didn't even read any of them because of the little time I had.

"You know they also have TV series on the basis of it." I tell her.

She looks up with curious eyes, listening to every word that comes out of my mouth.

"Do you want to watch it with me?"

She nods her head quickly and gives me a smile.

"We will watch it tomorrow, but I will read you the book for now, or maybe also teach you how to read." I said that and opened the book. She leans closer to my side. We are sitting on the floor with our backs leaning on the couch. I start reading it, and just in a few chapters, I feel her whole body leaning on my side.

I look at her sleeping face and try to pick her up in my arms. She is lighter than the kids are supposed to be at her age; she also eats less food, but I am trying to make her eat as much as possible, and I am proud to say she is eating a little more every time. I walk to my room and lay her down, covering her with a comforter.