I listen. Watch her move through a space that's becoming home. See the way the other children look at her, the way she waves at them, the way she's carved out a place for herself. It’s hard to believe this is the same little girl that looked soulless a few days ago, but she’s blossoming so quickly.
Must be the fact she has us.The thought is strange as it rolls around in my head, but it’s true, nonetheless. Safety in the arms of a couple of big dudes who murder people that murder people.
She's going to be okay. Not fixed, not healed, but okay. Moving forward. Building something new from the wreckage of what she was.
The garden is a patch of turned earth behind the main building. Several older children are digging, planting, watering. One of them, a boy maybe fifteen, looks up as we approach.
"Lily." He nods at her, then looks at me. His eyes are careful, assessing. The eyes of someone who's learned not to trust. "These are your people?"
"Yeah." Lily squeezes my hand. "This is Jinx. And Asher. They're going to be my dads."
The boy studies us. Takes in the weapons we're still carrying, the look in my eyes that says exactly what I am.
"You're like us," he says. "From the Foundry."
"A long time ago."
"But you got out. You're different now."
"I'm still working on the different part." I hold his gaze. "But I got out. That's the point. It's possible. Whatever they did to you, whoever they tried to make you, you can still become something else."
The boy is quiet. Then, slowly, he nods.
"I'm Marcus," he says. "I used to be Nineteen."
"Jinx." I extend my hand. "Nice to meet you, Marcus."
He shakes my hand. His grip is firm, his eyes a little brighter than they were.
"Lily talks about you," he says. "Says you’re the one who came into the facility and saved everyone. Says you killed the director."
"Lily talks too much."
"No, it's good." Marcus glances at the other children, then back at me. "It helps. Knowing someone like us could do that. Could fight back and win."
"You can fight back too when you’re ready."
"Will you teach me? When I'm ready?"
I look at this boy, this child who was stolen and broken and is slowly putting himself back together. I see myself in him. See all the Foundry kids I've ever known, the ones who made it and the ones who didn't.
"Yeah," I say. "When you're ready, I'll teach you."
We stay at the facility for two weeks.
Partly because the paperwork for Lily's adoption takes time and we want to do this legally, ensuring we will never be apart again. Partly because Jagger has things to coordinate, the new order to solidify, the Silent's transition to oversee.
Mostly because Lily isn't ready to leave.
"I don’t want to say goodbye yet," she tells me on day three. "They're my friends now. We survived together."
So we wait. We help where we can. Asher works with the kitchen staff, cooking meals that actually taste good. I spar with the older kids who want to learn to fight, teaching them control instead of chaos. We eat dinner with my brothers and their men, like we’re a big family.
At night, Lily sleeps between us in the too-small bed we've claimed. She has nightmares, sometimes. Wakes up screaming, thrashing, convinced she's back in her cell. I hold her and talk her through it, tell her where she is, who she's with, that she's safe.
Some nights are worse than others. Some nights I barely sleep, watching her, making sure she's breathing properly.
"You're going to make yourself sick," Asher murmurs on night eight. "You can't protect her every second."
