"Jane, be careful, alright!" Gianna shouted to the little girl playing with other children on the playground; close by, she and Amara were sipping wine, their dark shades on.
She watched Jane and Amara watch her, and when she turned, catching her eyes, Amara would look away, raising the cup to her lips.
Her eyes were back on the little girl, who was now moving down a slide and at the same time waving at her. Gia smiled and blew her a kiss, still watching as she ran for another round.
She and Jane had connected in a way she didn't expect; she was afraid to say she was slowly letting the girl into a piece of her heart, for each time the little finger held hers or the tiny lips brushed against her cheek, the love blossomed.
She'd taken Jane in out of guilt, inwardly knowing that somehow she had something to do with the little girl's predicament, but she never expected this—the way her heart jumped when she was hugged.
It had been three weeks already, yet it felt like two months. She knew
