"What's wrong, cariad?" Elen murmured as Jo shifted to rest her head on her lap, eyes lingering on the dark circles under the eleven-year-old's eyes.
"Must I really, mam? I... I don't want to leave you," Jo whispered quietly, letting out a small sigh when long fingers started stroking her hair. "An'... how can... how can they do that? Droppin' everythin' as soon as we turn eleven and then ask us to leave our families?"
"I don't know, fy mach i," her mother tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, voice softening. "But... I know that I am so, so proud of how you handled it. I wouldn't 'ave known at all if... if were true."
"You mean when I called her a fraud an' kidnapper?"
Their lips twitched into a slight smile.
"Yes," Elen chuckled softly. "Yes, Jo." Then, she paused, catching Kolya shift in his sleep, and her smile stretched.
"He's drooling."
"I don't know whether that's gross or hilarious," confessed Jo as she lifted her head, nose scrunched slightly.
Cariad (ca-ree-ad) — love
Mam — mum
Fy mach i (vee mach (like loch) ee)— my little one