A/N: Well, er... Hi?
J.F.C: (Chapter 11): Hello! Have you read the original of this story? If you haven't, please don't, I think it's terrible! D: In my previous one, she is transported in time as Hermione, but I'm not pulling that move in this story. It will be a little boring, but I do not want my fanfiction to just be a spiel of the original book with just an extra character saying some lines here and there, so it will consist of her months in the orphanage before her first year (repeated) in Hogwarts :).
(Chapter 12): Hello again! Thank you! And yes, she has returned, and she isn't the only one without her memories... She will be going through a decidedly more deadlier life this time, though in a different way. Without the threat of a war, she is facing a more domestic hell compared to the one she had in 1937 (I'm sure I said 1938 somewhere in the story- ignore that, it's wrong). People will treat her as his offspring, so you got that bang-on. And yes, she will be dressed as a guy, which is why the whole part of her having her little taster when she was five was important- and she will be far more natural in her 'role play' as a guy because of her previous experience of it, though she won't remember it! The Kronos thing was a metaphor, it will be as canon as possible, though I won't dismiss the idea of having multiple people helping her out. Oh, the possibilities! *Deviously rubs hands together* Thanks for reviewing- twice! it is much appreciated! I'd love for you to review again!
Sakura Lisel: I had planned for it to be, but I diverted yet again. I must urge people, that though there are laws to prevent issues like child abuse and sexual exploitation, it still happened throughout the 1980's and 1990's. You need only search 'Rotherham scandal' to know how much the issue is overlooked :( Unfortunately, her time in the orphanage is based off that. I was disgusted when I read the articles about the exploitation of children in care homes during such a developed time, and decided to incorporate that into this story- much as I will when I introduce a refugee later in this story. And of course, she will be much more modernised! Though she will retain the way of which she speaks and will feel like the more outdated things are what she feels she's more familiar with. They will be small realisations throughout, but mostly, she will be fixated on the other orphans. Thank you for reviewing! I love new readers- I think you can tell through this mega-response! I hope I hear from you again!
I'd been left, trembling on the doorstep of the orphanage. 'Leonardo' had sped off once he made sure that I was properly dressed, my suitcase in hand and my hair properly arranged. A small part of me resented him for leaving on such a vague note, but I reassessed the situation and lifted my hand to knock.
Fire spread through my back and that feeling I'd gotten once I'd taken my first look at the orphanage resurfaced.
Memoryless.
You can do this.
Just-
" 'Ello?" A brute of a man answered the door, his head shaven clean, wearing a white, undone blouse and a pair of dress trousers. His vest was visible and his stomach hung over the waistline of his black slacks. His shoes were extremely grotty and scuffed, telling me that the man hadn't been on an easy road. I swallowed- the man had an aura around him that told me that he was the sort that would beat children when it came down to it. I bit my lip.
" Hello." The man looked down and he narrowed his eyes.
" Wot is it? Wot d'ya wunt?" He asked, his voice both reeking and slurred from the alcohol he'd been drinking. I held my breath.
" I- I am the new resident. For this orphanage." I cast a cursory glance around the bleak, neglected building; and an ever so quiet voice told me that it should somehow be cleaner; and I dusted off the imaginary dirt off my skirt. It felt automatic- a habit, maybe?- and, as if though that brought the man's attention to me a little, his vision suddenly snapped into focus as he took in my black hair and my uniform.
" Impossible..." He whispered, much to my utter confusion. But suddenly, a horrid expression twisted his face and he gave me a malicious grin. " Come in, Miss Riddle." He said, revealing his yellowed teeth.
That tiny voice in my head suddenly amplified, screaming at me to turn and run as far from the man as possible, but my feet were thinking otherwise- they walked toward the doorway and I bobbed a slight curtsey to show my gratitude for allowing me in. The man gave me a wider smile before he closed the door shut with finality, the click sounding like a hundred explosions at once (and for some odd reason, bombs came to mind). I gave him an uneasy smile, wondering about whether I should have entered in the first place.
And I realised.
I never gave him my name.
•••
It was after two days that I had been enlightened with the fact that the children in this orphanage were routinely neglected. Where I was treated with careful devotion, the other residents had been left indigent at the amount of consideration going toward me.
The man, of whom I'd later learned was named Robert Cole (a hundred claxons went off in my head, but I'd steadfastly ignored them) was a man of a poor sense of humour. He found the most horrid things entertaining. Of the thirty two children here, he'd hit two and kicked three. These children, to my horror, were of the age range of three to twelve. As he'd done it when I wasn't there, determined to appear as benevolent as possible in front of me, I couldn't help the poor group of youngsters from their injuries. As soon as he'd finished with them, however, he'd immediately turned into some sort of angel when my eyes lay on him: lavishing me with food and water where others had to live in squalor and even cook for those things.
" And so I told him- wait for it," He was chortling away as he munched on some sort of crispy food from a packet, the crinkles of the plastic accentuated each time he put his hand into the bag to retrieve the fried food. " That his mother's a prostitute!" He snorted away before grasping his bottle of gin and swigging it down. I cringed a little before picking at my own food- a plate full of rectangular cod fillets covered in bread crumbs (A/N: fish fingers) and French fries. I found the whole thing tasteless and saturated in oil. A piece of fruit was more to my taste, as I'd discovered when Mr Cole had given me an apple the previous day. I pushed the fries around with a single finger- I mean, where is the cutlery?- and listened on to the man's mindless droning.
" How amusing." I intoned, hoping I didn't sound as sarcastic as I'd thought to my own ears. Thankfully, Cole was too drunk to notice it. I gave up on trying to eat and placed the plate on the table beside the stool I was sitting on, putting my hands delicately above one another on my lap and giving the man before me my full attention. " Robert," The man made a noise of approval at my use of his name. " I cannot help but notice the fact that you seemed rather awestruck by myself when I had first met you. Why is that?" I asked. The man paused in his binge-drinking before he put the bottle down onto the mahogany desk in front of him with a hollow bang.
" You reminded me of someone." He paused. " Can't think who." I noticed that he sounded more coherent than he had at the door.
Perhaps he'd taken a stronger intoxicant at the time?
" I see." I finally said, though I really didn't.
Now for the question I've been waiting for...
" I would also like to enquire," I added, reaching for the metal jug of water before pouring its contents into the one wineglass that Robert hadn't used yet. " Why the children here are currently in a state of neglect." I calmly brought the glass to my lips, eyes smooth as I possibly could keep them- and for a second, I remembered that I hadn't looked in the mirror since I'd woken up in the crater. Robert suddenly looked calculating; a feat worth crediting considering the amount of drinks he'd had.
" So you know, then." He said, voice filled with quiet anger. I kept the fear rising within me from exploding and instead held my dignity, lifting my chin slightly to meet his gaze in his oppressive office.
" It is rather hard to ignore when you beat them in this very room," I swept my right arm across the office which had turned into my bedroom. " When you think I am asleep or otherwise occupied in the lavatory." A vein on his forehead pulsed and a moment of charged tension materialised between the both of us. I swallowed slightly- the only indication that I was afraid. The wineglass never once left my hand, still being grasped somewhat loosely between my fingers.
" If an animal didn't behave," I almost interrupted to contradict him: to tell him that the children weren't animals, but instead allowed him to continue, trying to appear as open as possible to his idea of punishment. " Then you'd discipline them, won't you? Dog bites person, you teach them a lesson, right? Well, these kids overstepped the boundary and needed to be taught a lesson."
" Did I not overstep the boundary by stealing from the kitchens a mere day ago?"
" You're different." He got up and walked around the large desk. All of a sudden, it felt as if though all the air in the room had been sucked out and I was left holding my breath, back tensing as he edged nearer toward me. His large hand landed on my shoulder before playing with my hair. The distant voice that made itself known when I first met the man suddenly screamed at me in my head.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY! YOU SHOULD HAVE-
I bit my lip hard enough to draw blood, shuddering as he leaned in toward me, burying his nose in my freshly washed hair. He inhaled deeply.
" Strawberries." He whispered. My hands were starting to shake violently.
The wineglass fell to the ground.
It shattered on impact.
" Excuse me." My voice trembled as I stood up abruptly. Cole didn't allow me to stand, wrapping his arms around me so that my head was swamped in his chest- and a stagnant smell immediately entered my nose. I pushed him off, but only succeeded in struggling against his larger form. " Let me go!" I shouted. He smirked at me.
" No." He drew me closer, but my mind went into overdrive. I did the first thing that came into mind and kicked him where it hurt most.
" Argh!" He gave an unsightly scream and keeled over. I didn't waste any time running out of his range, sprinting toward the door. I turned the doorknob and threw myself out and into the corridor. I was breathing heavily, each precious intake of oxygen staggering in my lungs. " COME BACK HERE!" He bellowed. I jumped slightly- he'd recovered that quickly?- before forcing myself to run even further, barely catching any breath between each inhalation of air. I was slowly starting to grow sluggish in my footsteps, each leg growing clumsier in my haste to get away from the man.
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT! NOW YOU'RE GOING TO-
" Over here." Someone whispered. My head jerked toward someone- someone who I never thought could look more beautiful and be more gracious at that moment- and put every effort into closing into the boy who offered me a place to hide.
He was holding a window open for me, his long, spindly arm supporting the heavy glass and metal structure. He wore the same clothes as me; except they were of a far better material and had a peculiar shape to them, as if though they were designed for people of his age, but not specifically for him. His trousers, as opposed to my skirt, was wrinkled and covered in grassy green patches, as if though he were an outgoing person. I extended my shaking arms to him and he pulled me up onto the sill before dropping me out of the window and into the front lawn- and I thanked whatever was up there that I was on the ground floor.
" Just keep going!-"
" I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THAT, BOY!" Robert shouted from behind me. A resounding thump followed a small whine of pain from behind me. I almost hesitated- almost paused- but the voice inside of me berated me again.
GO! HE DOESN'T MATTER, IT'S YOUR LIFE ON THE LINE! GO!
My feet were still operating- one after the other, one after the other- but my mind was going against my body. I hated myself for leaving the boy with the eccentric hair colour (black and blue, black and blue). Suddenly, jarring pain erupted in me. I staggered around for a while, groaning in pain at the sudden interruption of my get away. I spotted a structure with smoke-grey glass windows and a red roof before pushing myself closer to it, the only thought in my mind being of the shelter it would produce from the upcoming rain.
How far have I run?
I dragged myself to the red bench before sitting and wrapping my arms around my knees, shivering as the temperature caught up with me. My blood circulation slowed and I suddenly felt extremely tired. I felt around in my pockets for my glucometer and withdrew it before piercing my index finger and allowing a drop of blood to fall.
71.
Just above normal.
I let out a long breath, breathing as deeply as I could (in and out, in and out). I shivered and waited and waited for it to stop- that unbearable feeling of cool ice sliding down my back, leaving no damp trail behind.
I slid my eyes shut.
And tried my best to fall asleep.
•••
It was to the steady pitter-patter of raindrops that I awoke to, nature's alarm bringing my attention to my badly cramped back and the position of which I'd fallen asleep on the bench- a foetal position. I realised my head was propped up on something and looked up.
I smelled the reek of alcohol before I saw his face.
" Nice night sleeping, girl?" He growled, anger palpable in the air between us. I shuddered and pulled myself out of his grasp. " You think you can run from me? Think again." I swallowed, staring at Robert and curled my body up, my arms wrapped around my knees. " Come with me." He grabbed my hand and yanked it up, aggressively. I was forced up, that criticising voice in my head deathly silent and at that moment, I wished for anyone- anything- to interrupt this confrontation, knowing I wasn't enough to stop this brute of a man from dragging me down into the orphanage- my literary hell. Nonetheless, I struggled against his grasp, too scared to shout, but too stubborn to let him take me without a fight.
" Let me go!" The first words I said that night tumbled from my mouth, sounding pleading even to my own ears. I berated myself for allowing so much emotion to cloud my judgement of the man- he wasn't worth begging. Robert didn't respond, instead unlocking his vehicle and throwing me into the back. I turned around and he shut the door before locking it. I hammered against it, pleading for the public to pay attention to what was going on- to the kidnapping, truthfully, that was about to happen. But Mr Cole only pushed his foot on the pedal and we sped off into the direction of the thrice-be-damned orphanage, that feeling of dread coiling in my stomach for the second time.
Only it was worse.
Oh, it was so much worse.
•••
I was dragged through the orphanage by the hair, my embarrassment and mortification clear on my face. Several orphans paused to watch the abuse and I managed to catch the eye of the same black-and-blue haired boy whilst he scrubbed the floor. His brown eyes were staring at me with pity and barely restrained sadness. That was the only glimpse I managed to catch of him before I was forced up the stairs, the orphans who were dusting the banisters shoved rudely aside by Robert. I winced when his hand tightened, refusing to allow tears to slide down my cheeks.
He's not worth your sadness.
" You're disgusting." He spat. I swallowed down any biting remarks I would have sent back at him, choosing to work on my straining anger that threatened to spill over its banks. He threw open a door and I only had enough time to see a flicker of its number before he tossed me into the dark room, slamming the heavy door behind him and locking it with a twist of a key. I fell backwards on my rear end, coughing once a cloud of dust entered my nose. Something squeaked behind me and I gasped, almost letting out a sob in my shock.
How long has it been since this room was cleaned?
I stood up in the darkness before allowing my legs to work slowly so that I could survey the room around me. I extended my arms and walked towards what I knew was the door. A thought crossed my mind and an image of me banging the door emerged, but I threw it out of my mind before I could be tempted to plead to be let out.
My pride would never allow it.
I took a few steps forward once I was sure I had my back to the door.
One, two, three, four, five, six.
The length of the room was six steps long. I turned myself at a 90 degree angle and started to walk.
One, two, three, four.
The room was four steps wide.
I tried to ignore what I was kicking up in the process whilst I walked across the room, still coughing from the dust being let up. I felt across the room and walked five steps diagonally toward the corner next to a pair of what I thought were curtains. I settled down and leant my head against the slightly damp, peeling wall, comfort be damned. I wished I had some light in the room, but couldn't bring myself to open the curtains, too frightened of what would happen if a passer-by happened to see me or if Robert caught me in the act. My eyes couldn't adjust in the pitch-black landscape. The sheer lack of light could even rival my own hair colour.
Or maybe the whole reason why I couldn't see very well in the dark was because I have anaemia.
I made a silent pledge to eat as many carrots I could possibly have as soon as I was let out- or if I was let out.
" No," I whispered to myself. " Do not think like that. I shall get out of this mess somehow." I wrung my wrists and curled up, still somewhat uncomfortable with my cheek pressed up against the damp wall and my fear of whatever the next day may bring, but managed to fall into an uneasy sleep.
•••
I was standing in a clearing, surrounded by woods and forest. I was dressed in nothing but a thin nightie, my body smaller (was this something from my past?) and my hair shorter- just past my chin. I felt like I was around six. I noticed a small weight in my arms and looked down.
A beautiful young baby boy stared unflinchingly back at me, his eyes electric-green and his hair a crop of black, neat and downy. His body was small and fragile and he was swaddled in threadbare blankets (familiar, familiar, familiar, where did they come from?). I almost gasped in my surprise, terrified of letting go of him when a hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.
The man before me was handsome- incredibly handsome. That pang of familiarity clutched me again, and my heart leapt to my throat. But before I could react, the man snatched the baby from my arms, giving me a sneer worthy of an overlord (a thousand daggers stabbed at my heart) and he stared at the thing in his arms in disgust. He lifted his gun and-
" NO!" I screamed, my body controlling me instead of my mind. The man paused and looked up. Encouraged, I shouted again. " Shoot me instead! Please, me, not the baby!" I pleaded. The man smiled- but it was a cruel smile- it was a smile meant to harm and kill.
He lifted his gun and shot.
I flinched and gasped, clutching at my stomach before my hand came away with blood.
" Goodbye, Tom." I whispered, staring at the baby, though my mind was confused (aren't I Tom?).
I fell, black spots invading my vision when a woman- not beautiful, with dark hair tied in a scarf and her eyes mismatched (one blue and the other an eerily memorable red), set with heavy features that filled me with another wash of familiarity- ran to me and screamed, throwing her head back as she wailed.
" MY BABY!" She hollered, sounding as if though someone had pulled her heart out of her body. " MY BABY!" She repeated, looking broken. She pushed on my stomach in a desperate attempt to stem the blood before she gave a dejected, heartbroken little sob.
" Sing to me." I whispered. " Sing to me before I sleep. Before you leave me again." And she nodded, still sobbing.
Her singing compensated for her lack of beauty.
I smiled as bitter tears flooded from my eyes.
" Goodbye, mama." I sobbed.
" Hold on. Please. For me. For Tom."
" I can't."
" No-"
•••
It was to someone gently shaking my shoulder that I awoke to the living world, my eyes peeled open from the excessive amount of sleep. I rubbed my head, already starting to forget about the dream- the only thing coming to mind a haunting song and the sight of green and red eyes.
The room I stayed in was suddenly revealed before my eyes, the light struggling to get through the thick curtains but somehow sluggishly managing to stream in. Plaster from the ceiling had dropped to the edge of the room- of which was actually rather small- and there was damp all over the walls. The curtain was thick and suffocated the room with dust.
I started to cough once a cloud of dust entered my nose.
" Hey, you alright?" The boy asked worriedly, rubbing my back gently.
For Goodness sake, I'm not fragile! Thump on my back, don't stroke it!
" Yes, yes, I'm fine." I said, hastily, before the boy pulled me up with grace. It was the same boy who saved me yesterday before I got caught and thrown back in here (and for a split second I wondered about whether that was a rational decision before remembering Robert's disturbing proximity to me and shuddering). He gazed at me with his large brown eyes. I swallowed. His nose was a bit big but it fitted his face. His black and blue hair was brushed across his forehead in a way I didn't find entirely flattering, but it suited him.
A split second of silence ensued with me examining his features. I later realised what I was doing and dropped my hand from his gentle grasp, my gaze lowered and my cheeks heated.
He only laughed.
" It's fine. I'm Xavier. You can call me Xav, though." I swallowed, unable to get past my embarrassment- but then the issue of my name took hold.
I have no memories.
What am I called?
Should I go with what 'Leonardo' told me to do: call myself Tom Marvolo Riddle?
Or should I make up an entirely new name?
" Tom. My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle." I finally said, though my tongue felt heavy when I said it; it was a lie and my body knew it.
But my mind did not.
Xavier stared at me with a strange look in his eyes. I only crossed my fingers behind my back- hoping that he wouldn't ask about the credibility of my 'name' or whether I made it up or not.
" Were your parents hippies?" he asked. I furrowed an eyebrow.
" Hippies?" Xavier only rolled his eyes.
" Never mind." He suddenly turned sober. " You are amongst the eldest in the orphanage, judging by your apparent age. I'd place you at about nine or ten." I raised an eyebrow.
I didn't feel nine or ten.
I didn't respond, however, there was the possibility of me being more mature than my age.
" Because of that, you're gonna' have to do the chores and look after the others. Only one person is older than the both of us- I'm thirteen- and because of that I'm going to introduce you to the rest of us before you get started on the chores that Robert had enlisted that you do." The mere mention of the man's name sent shivers down my spine.
He won't touch me... No one will ever touch me...
The silent promise solidified in my mind.
No one will hurt me ever again.
•••
Soon enough, I was standing in the nursery before a long line of orphans- around twenty or possibly thirty if I pushed it. Everyone was arranged in age order and everything about them- from their uniforms to the way the girl's hairs were tied- was neat and perfect, despite the amount of chores I'd seen them do the days previous.
" This," Xavier gestured towards an olive skinned boy with curly black hair and hazel eyes. " Is Yahya Abdullahi. He's the eldest at fifteen years old and he works part time in a shop- his own chore. He has a dual heritage: his mum was Afghan and his dad was Egyptian. They passed away when he was twelve." Yahya bent his head slightly- the only indication of the pain at the mention of his parents. I noticed that there was a little girl hiding behind him who looked around three or four. She was the only one who wasn't in age order.
The younger girl was slightly paler than the boy and her curly hair was split into two ties, her hair perking up. Her eyes were a golden hue of brown- she was a simply beautiful child.
Xav chuckled.
" This is his younger sister Zainab. She's three years old; and the cutest in this house!" Zainab giggled. Yahya only smiled gently at his younger sister- his only sister.
" Hush, baby." He said, softly, pushing a finger against his lips. I could understand why- Robert was probably slumbering upstairs with a bottle of tequila thrown haphazardly across his body. Zainab grinned and copied her older brother, looking at him with an adoring gaze in her eyes. I smiled at the scene: what I'd give to have someone to care for me...
" Moving on." Xavier walked a pace. We landed before a blonde girl wearing ribbons in her hair, looking by far the most fairy-like girl in the line. " This is Louise Tate She's nine years old. She was put here on the doorstep when she was a baby- we're still tracking her parents down." We moved onwards again once I gave the ribbon-girl a cordial nod. She beamed back at me.
The line continued in a similar way until we landed before a pair of twins.
" Ah." Xavier paused. The two were huddled together, looking as if though the whole world was against them. They weren't the only multiple births we'd encountered- we'd seen the triplets Kayley, Rayley and Hayley but these two were special.
They were boy-girl twins.
" This is Brandon and the girl is called Amber." They were shaking- the very image of innocence lost. The girl had blonde hair and the boy had brown hair. By the way they were arranged, Amber was the eldest, though Brandon acted like it was the other way around. Other than their hair colour, the two were mirror images of one another. " They... Were born here. Their mother was suffering from some sort of disease before she passed away. The last thing she said was- um..."
" I hope they look like their daddy." Brandon said with a tiny voice, the six year old looking up resolutely at me. The girl seemed to have stopped shaking too- until I realised something.
Tears were falling down my cheeks.
I rubbed at my face.
" Gosh, I am so sorry. I have no idea what set this off, I-"
" It's fine." Xavier said, placing a hand on the small of my back. I almost sniffled- almost- and walked onwards.
Soon enough, we'd finished the line of toddlers and happened upon the age group that made up the vast majority of the orphanage- the babies.
" Usually Yahya and Louise take care of the babies." Xav intoned, sweeping his arm across the league of sleeping babies in their cradles. A count of the infants showed that there were eight of them- all of whom were under the age of fifteen months. Some had name labels- others didn't. " Since some of the kids were just left here without a name, we just keep them nameless until someone comes along and adopts them. The babies are usually the quickest to go, anyway, since most parents don't want their kids remembering their lives before they were adopted." Xavier suddenly looked sad.
" Are you all right?" I asked, hesitantly. Xav shook his head out of his dream-state.
" It's fine, just remembering stuff I'd rather not." He sighed. " I was adopted as a baby but was given back after four years. I had two other failed adoptions after that until I got moved here to 'sort out my unruly behaviour'. This orphanage is notorious for sorting kids out, but no one bothers to check how." I bit my lip.
" I apologise. I should never have asked." I whispered. Xav smiled, my probing behaviour forgotten.
" Curiosity is human nature. Don't be sorry for it." I nodded.
A few mental calculations showed that there were three people above the age of ten, seven in the six-to-nine age group, six toddlers and eight babies. All together, that made twenty-four children.
" Are there any more children?" I asked. Xav rolled his eyes.
" Only four more. They're the trouble makers- they just bum in here when they can't go to their friend's house. So that's Kaz- short for Karen-, Mike for Michael, Ash for Ashton and Saw." I raised an eyebrow at all of the names before my other eyebrow joined in once he said the last name.
" Saw? His parents must hate him!" Xav snorted.
" Her."
" Saw is a girl?" I asked, incredulous. Xav smirked.
" It's short for Sawyer- a name that's become increasingly popular and apparently unisex these days. But then again, I suppose you can't really say anything since your name's Tom, right?" Despite it being a joke, it hit hard.
" I do not remember my true name." I said, icily. Xav backtracked.
" Sorry- I meant it to be a joke." He looked downtrodden. I pursed my lips.
" How old are they?" I changed the subject.
" They're sixteen."
" I thought you said I was the third eldest- after Yahya and yourself?"
" They're technically not members of the orphanage since they've passed the legal mark. They're sixteen- and therefore adults, they can get an apartment, but they apparently can't be asked to." A moment passed. I regarded the boy before me.
" I see." I finally broke the silence. At that, I turned and walked away.
No one said anything.
" Oh, and Xavier?" I asked.
" Yeah?" He responded.
" You are forgiven." I replied with a smile. Xav released a relieved breath and I turned to face him again before he walked to me and embraced me.
I sunk into the feeling before a cough interrupted us.
Yahya fought hard to prevent himself from laughing.
" Get a room!" He doubled up. Confused, Zainab started to copy her brother. I gave them a smile before a sound cut through the exchange.
One of the babies had woken up.
Xav, Yahya and I raced to the only cradle making the noise before Yahya picked up the baby- a quick check of the foot of the cot told me that this was one of the rare named infants- before he lifted the baby.
There was no other way to put it.
He sniffed the baby boy's rear.
" Has baby Conner done a poop?" Yahya cooed. Conner giggled. I grimaced.
I'd never change a baby even if my life depended on it.
Yahya, still amusing the now-happy infant, opened the door only to rear backwards in fear and shock.
Robert stood in the doorway, his form forbidding and full of anger.
But that wasn't what captured my attention.
It was the multiple parchment envelopes he held in his meaty fists.
A/N: Weeeeeeelllll...
What's gonna' happen to poor Tia/'Tom'?
Pretty please leave your thoughts- they are much appreciated!
~ Annika