Omega No More

Kincaid Institute for Orphans

     With her head hanging in her hands, Finley Kincaid exhaled a long, weary sigh. She rolled her tense shoulders to loosen the tightly knotted muscles acquired from stress. Eyeballing the pile of bills still stacked on top of her desk, she breathed out a groan. Donations were becoming few and far in between, and payments were building up quickly. A forty bedroom and bath three story house did not pay for itself. The lack of money was an ever-increasing problem for Finley as more and more children were being brought to her doorstep. Her heart of gold would not allow for her to turn a child away, so she slaved away to make ends meet. 

     The last batch of kids came in two weeks ago from the Everclaire pack after an out of control fire stole away the children's providers. The pack did not have enough Omegas to watch them, and no family would step up to nurture the children as their own. Thus, the four kids were brought to the Kincaid Institute for Orphans (KIO) to be integrated into their new lives. The youngest pup, Lillian, was a four-year-old bundle of sweetness who immediately latched herself to Finley's hip. Currently the adorable little pup was coloring a picture of a butterfly on the floor beside Finley's feet. 

     Lillian usually stayed very quiet, but she became very fussy if Finley was not in her line of sight. When she was first brought in, she cried nonstop for three days. She suffers bad separation anxiety because she thinks everyone leaves her. Her older brother died in a hiking accident, and then her parents were taken from her too. The poor girl was deeply scarred by the death of her loved ones, but sadly, her memory of them would soon fade. 

     Camden and Kalem, six-year-old twins, were very quiet and only liked to play with each other. Finley had a feeling that when they became comfortable with their new surroundings, they would be quite the little mischief makers. She was already exhausted just thinking about all the trouble they would get into later. 

     The fourth child, Roman, was nine years old and had yet to speak one word since the accident that took his parents. The children all watched their parents burn, but Roman was most likely to remember the tragedy for the rest of his life. The boy had very clever eyes and seemed to watch every detail of his surroundings. He was also very protective of the twins and Lillian. Finley always left her office door open in case one of the children needed her, and she would often look up to find Roman standing in her doorway. He never said a word, just stood there and watched Lillian play. Only after the four-year-old would glance up and smile at him would he walk away. 

     Finley's heart broke for all the children in the orphanage, but the newest ones always had a special place in her heart because much of her time was spent trying to make them feel welcome. Lillian, the precious little one, had stayed glued to Finley for the past eleven days, and she already could not imagine her shadow away from her side. 

      The thoughts about Lillian drew the caretaker's eyes to the little girl's drawing. The blue butterfly was floating in the wind with flowers all around it, but what made a tear drop from Finley's eye was the red and orange that covered half the page. The colors of fire. Before Lillian could consume the butterfly with her colored flames, Finley stood from her chair and grabbed the little girl. She sat her comfortably on her hip before reaching down and picking up the picture. 

     She spoke gently to the emotionally scarred child, "You drew a beautiful butterfly Lil. Why do you want to color over it?"

     Lillian's bottom lip trembled. "It still beautiful in da fire. It just don't come out after it go in. Mommy and Daddy was both beautiful, but the fire took dem too." 

     Finley could not hold back the tears as she held the angel's soft face in her hands. "Your mommy and daddy loved you so, so much Pumpkin. You need to know that okay? They will never leave you because you carry them with you right here," Finley said as she placed her palm over Lillian's heart. 

     The little girl looked down with confusion at the warm hand resting on her chest. Then she stared back at Finley with the widest green eyes. "They too big for me to carry. They don't fit there!" 

     The young woman giggled at the little girl's answer before explaining, "They are not here in their bodies but in spirit. Your mommy and daddy's spirits are always with you in your heart. You may not can see them, but they will always be there. They will help guide you in your life and help you make the right decisions instead of wrong ones." The four-year-old had a look of deep concentration on her face. "So they will tell me not to eat da cookie I stole from da kitchen?" Finley crushed the little girl to her chest as she laughed long and hard. 

     Then she pulled Lillian back, so she could see the doll's face. "They will tell you not to eat the whole cookie. You gotta split half with me!" She gave Lillian a big wink before kissing her chubby cheek. "Now let's go find that cookie!" 

     The girl giggled and clapped her hands, "Cookie, cookie, cookie!" The two left the office and went in search of the chocolatey goodness.