Isla took a breath, her shoulders sagging slightly. She was tired of carrying the memory alone. He had seen her fear firsthand. At the time it had been so hard to be vulnerable, to explain. But not anymore.
“During one of the nights of the London bombings, the matron told us to hide under our beds. Then she ... left. Turned off the lights and left us alone. It was so cold and dark, and I could hear other girls crying. And then a bomb hit the building.”
Her voice wavered, and she hurried to add, glancing up at him, “I wasn’t hurt. But I was trapped. For a long time ... alone. I had a small gap where I could see outside, and then it started to rain, and the lightning ... I was so small, and I didn’t know if I would get out.” She swallowed hard. “The fear never really left me.”
“Oh, Isla ...” Andrew’s hand reached for hers, but before he could speak further, an elderly lady appeared, calling out a greeting to them both. He greeted the lady politely, but he put his free arm around Isla’s waist.
She felt the warmth of having finally let him see more of her—the fragile, frightened parts of her. Someone she trusted. She trusted Andrew with all of herself, she realized.
Together they went into a small greeting room where the children waited, happy to see her. Their eyes sparkled with excitement as they eyed the packages. These children with so little were truly grateful for the smallest of offerings. She hoped these gifts might bring even just a fraction of comfort.
“Isla!” A young girl named Lily rushed to her, seeming to give the others permission to do the same. “Have you brought presents?”
“I have indeed, along with my friend Andrew.”
“I am just the delivery boy. You have Isla to thank for these.”
The matron of the orphanage thanked them, encouraging the children to do the same. She was a kind woman, a stark contrast to Isla’s experience, and she couldn’t help but feel grateful for that. Isla noticed a sprig of holly and other greenery about the room; clearly the staff had tried to help make the room look festive, though it all looked a little wilted. Isla couldn’t help walking to the fireplace, her hands behind her back, and using her Aetheric gifts to bring life back into the foliage a little—a subtle change, but one she hoped would bring some cheer.
Andrew joined her at the fireplace, his eyes on a boy flying a wooden airplane around the room.
“I saw that, Professor.” His blue eyes sparkled over at her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know, when you come back to visit here again, may I join you?” He nodded toward the boy with the plane. “We may have another professor in the making here.”
“I would like that.”
“Only like?”
She smiled at him. “Okay, I’d love it if you could join me on future visits.”
“Yes,” he replied. “Love is a much better word.”
Isla blushed at his double meaning as she turned and joined in playing with the children. For the first time in weeks, Isla allowed herself to relax entirely and just be present in the moment.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Andrew walked Isla to her apartment door. Their outing had been a pleasant surprise as well as filled with hope. She had opened up to him even more. Isla turned. She still hadn’t allowed anyone to stay with her overnight, insisting Juliette was only a knock away. She looked shy as she met his eyes.
He wasn’t sure how to say goodbye—he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. His memories of past lives where they didn’t have to separate lingered. Yet here he was feeling like a schoolboy wanting his first kiss.
“Isla, I ...” His hand lifted, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the strands soft against his fingers. He cupped her jaw, his thumb grazing the apple of her cheek.
Her amber eyes met his, familiar and yet entirely new, flecked with gold that seemed to shimmer in the dim hallway light. Before he could say more, a small green movement caught his eye. He looked up.
“Is that ... is that mistletoe?”
Isla’s face went beetroot red, her still-glowing hands flying to her cheeks in pure embarrassment.
“No, I mean ... yes,” she stammered. “It was an accident. Just—maybe you should leave now, and I’ll let the plant wrap itself around me so I don’t die of mortification.”
Andrew felt his grin spread wide, his own cheeks warming with delight.
“I’m going to presume your accidental summoning of mistletoe means you were hoping for a kiss?”
“Andrew!” She laughed, swatting his arm before hiding her face again. “Leave now, or I’ll set the plant on you instead.”
