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The problems started a week after Jonathan joined the family. Ivy had had stress since she was six years old. She suffered from panic attacks and nightmares, which prevented her from resting properly and she always distrusted people. Selina and Bridgit were the only ones who knew about her problems and tried to help her as best they could, but living on the streets makes her paranoid and although Ivy knew that Gordon's house was a safe place and that the man was not going to do them any harm, because he had had many opportunities to harm them and had always respected them and given them space, habits took time to disappear and sleeping with a knife had made Ivy feel safer when she slept. Her knife was like Selina's razor or Bridgit's lighter, she never let go of it.
She, too, hadn't meant to harm Gordon, but he had rudely woken her up, lightly touching her ankle. Ivy couldn't even think straight before stabbing him in his thigh. She luckily hadn't hit any arteries, but his wound wouldn't stop bleeding.
Ivy wept in Gordon's arms. He hadn't even cared about his injury, although it must have been hurting him like he was in hell, but he had preferred to calm her down first.
"It's okay, Ivy," Gordon said, stroking her hair, trying to calm her down. "I'm fine, don't worry."
Selina, Bridgit and Jonathan watched the scene closely, in case they had to intervene, but keeping them at a distance. They had woken up to the screams Ivy had given when she stabbed Gordon.
"Maybe you should tend to your wound, Jim." Selina intervened. "I think the blood is making Ivy nervous."
She was right. Selina knew her too well. Still, Ivy wasn't going to calm down. What she had done would take time to forgive herself, perhaps she never would. She could have stabbed Selina, Bridgit, or Jonathan. She could have killed Gordon or hurt herself. Now Gordon would throw her out on the street and she would have to wander at night alone, without Selina or Bridgit to watch her back. Maybe Gordon didn't want an incident like that to happen again and he'd throw them all out on the streets. Ivy, still crying, looked at Ivy and Bridgit, from the faces on their face, she knew they were thinking the same thing.
It was a matter of time before something like this happened. They had all been acting up, trying to be on their best behavior. No one wanted to be the cause of ending all the privileges they currently had.
- We can help.-Bridgit said.-We know how to clean wounds and sew them up.
- Don't kick us out now.-Selina said.-We can leave in the morning, but now it will be difficult to find shelter for the night.
"No one is going anywhere," Gordon said. "I know this was an accident and I'm not going to throw anyone out on the street."
Ivy was surprised, though she wasn't the only one. Gordon should be furious, he should rant about the street kids, kick them out or arrest them and send them to a foster home. Ivy couldn't bear to be separated from her friends again. And she mistrusted Gordon because she couldn't understand him. Gordon didn't have the reaction she was used to, he was totally unpredictable for her.
"What are you going to do with us?" Ivy shrieked, waving her arms around, wanting to look bigger and more menacing.
-It's a clean wound.-Selina said.-Ivy could kill you if she wanted to, but don't let that influence your answer. I am curious to know it too.
"I want you to rest," Gordon replied calmly. Selina was cleaning his wound while Bridgit took it upon herself to comfort Ivy. Jonathan watched the scene with interest. "I recognize the symptoms of PTSD. I was a soldier in the army and many of my friends have suffered from it. My closest friend, who I recently lost contact with, Eduardo Dorrance, has PTSD, he is currently in a stage where he wants to find himself and has gone to Asia to meditate. I think he is near the Himalayas. I don't know what happened to you, Ivy, but whatever it is, I'm here if you ever need to tell anyone."
At this point in the night, Ivy just wanted to go back to bed. She didn't care about this Edward Dorrance, or Gordon's life, and she was tired of standing still while she listened to his army battles. She was really tired. She wriggled, trying to free herself from Bridgit's grasp. She didn't need to be comforted, she had done it for sheer survival. She needed Gordon to understand. She couldn't always be playing the model girl, her character, the real one, was coming out. If Gordon was going to accept her into his house, it would be being herself, not faking it for fear he would kick her out at any moment.
She went to the shared room, trying to hide the tears. She didn't want to see the disappointment on the faces of others. She knew that Selina would stay with Gordon, trying to defuse the situation. She knew him better than the rest and would try to keep Gordon from throwing them out. He could say what he wanted, but of all the children in his house, Jonathan was the only one who hadn't come to Gordon, the only one Gordon had personally gone to look for. Perhaps Ivy was a little jealous that she hadn't been Gordon's choice, but given their history, she couldn't blame him. Though her story and Jonathan's were pretty similar, maybe that's why part of her wished that Gordon had been there when her mother killed herself and she was left on the street with no one to turn to. Jonathan had had Gordon from the first moment since he got out of the hospital, he never stepped foot on the street, not like them.
"Well, we can really stay." Selina said.
She had walked in with Bridgit and Jonathan, giving Ivy enough time for her to calm down and try to hide her tears. It was a gesture of good will, although Ivy knew that if they wanted they could have blamed her for the little scene she had caused in the drawing room.
- We had to give him some stitches.-Bridgit said.-Gordon insisted that you see a psychiatrist, but we made him give up. We already know what happens with psychiatrists in this city. They are all crazy!
Jonathan didn't say anything. He was a very quiet boy and he preferred to observe the situation and only interfere if it was really necessary. Ivy couldn't read it, but she could tell he was like them.
"Maybe we better get used to sleeping unarmed," Bridgit said. "Gordon is a bleeding heart and if we have nightmares again, he might try to wake us up. Something tells me he hasn't learned his lesson yet."
They looked at each other. Could they trust each other? Trust that they wouldn't be attacked in their sleep? But if they didn't, Gordon might send them to therapy. With a sigh, Ivy looked for the knife, realizing that she had left it in the dining room, on the table, leaving a trail of blood that she would clean up later, as a sign of goodwill and a peace offering towards Gordon.
