Chapter 2

ANDREA AGE 12

Four weeks have passed since I moved in with Dorathy and Cade. On my first day, I met their sons. It was awkward.. being around new people always is. But I learned they were all adopted too, which I found strange, though I kept that thought to myself.

Logan is the oldest, and easily the coldest. He barely acknowledged me when I arrived and hasn't said much since. But maybe he just values his space, and I can respect that.

The twins, Killian and Austin, were friendly enough. We probably won't be super close, the age gap is too wide for that. Dorathy mentioned they're in their senior year of high school, whatever that means. She also said I'd have to take a placement test before starting school. I've never been to school before, but everything I've heard about it sounds incredible. I told the twins I wanted to go to high school with them, and Killian laughed and said I was way too young, and that I'd change my mind once I was actually old enough to go.

Reid and Drew are the closest to my age. They showed me around the house and helped me find my room. I think Drew and I are going to be best friends. He's only a couple of years older than me.

The house itself was overwhelming at first. Tall cream brick walls, a wide porch flanked by white pillars, and black double doors that open into a grand entrance. The floors inside are white with black flecks, polished so smooth I can see my own reflection if I look down. Two wide staircases start on opposite sides of the room and meet at the top, something straight out of a fairytale. It felt like a maze at first. It still does, a little.

Now I'm sitting on the living room floor with my back against the couch, trying to study for my placement test. They have Killian helping me because apparently he has the best grades. He's so smart, and I hope some of it rubs off on me. He's sitting across from me surrounded by papers, explaining something called algebra. I'm hanging on his every word. Multiplication and division were easy enough to pick up, but this? This feels impossible.

"Try the next problem and let's see how you do," he says, sliding the paper and calculator toward me. His patience hasn't worn out yet, but I feel guilty for not getting it faster.

"Algebra is stupid," I mutter, punching numbers into the calculator harder than necessary.

He lets out a short laugh before catching himself with a cough. I notice anyway.

I stare at the problem again, gripping the pencil too hard. I know what answer I'm supposed to get, he wrote it at the bottom of the page, but every time I try, I come up with something different. My eyes sting with frustration as I erase for the third time. This literally makes no sense.

Footsteps pull my attention from the page. I glance up to see Logan and Austin coming up from the basement, bags in hand. My stomach tightens at the sight of the open door behind them. They told me it's just a gym and tennis court down there, but I can't make myself go near it. Every time I try, my chest locks up and the walls feel like they're closing in. Dorathy told me that's called a panic attack and that it's completely normal given everything I've been through.

Logan glances at the papers spread across the table, then at me. I try a small, hopeful smile. He doesn't return it. I look back down at the calculator.

"Don't be an ass," Killian mutters under his breath. I don't think I was supposed to hear that. Cade told them not to swear around me or they'd have to put money in the swear jar. I didn't know what that was at first, but now that I do, I think it's hilarious.

I look up at Killian with a slow grin. "Swear jar."

He glances up, confused, then rolls his eyes. "You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm serious." I grab a cup from the end of the table and push it toward him with a giggle.

Drew appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, I didn't even hear him come in. "She's serious, dude. Go on," he says, winking at me. I can't help grinning. It's nice to have someone in my corner.

I notice Logan and Austin leaning against the wall beside the TV. Logan looks bored. Austin watches with quiet amusement. He doesn't say much, but he's not unkind. He communicates more with his expressions and actions than with words.

At first glance the twins look identical, but the longer you watch, the more differences appear. Killian's curls are tighter than Austin's. Austin has pale grey eyes, while Killian has one grey eye and one brown, I noticed that on the first day and haven't been able to stop noticing it since. Austin also has tattoos covering almost every visible surface. They're everywhere.

Killian sighs dramatically and pulls out his wallet. He drops two crisp fifty-dollar bills into the cup.

"You're something else, Drea," he says, pushing it back toward me.

I peer inside, eyes wide. "Isn't this a little much for one word?" I try to slide one of the bills back, but he shakes his head.

"If we're doing a real swear jar, the stakes have to be high enough to actually mean something." He grabs a sharpie and writes Swear Jar on the side of the cup before setting it back down.

"I don't know what that means," I admit, glancing between them.

"It means you're about to be rich," Drew says, leaning over to ruffle my hair.

I look up and swat his hand away.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Logan slipping out of the room. My smile fades. I glance over at Austin, still by the wall. He catches my frown and gives a small shrug.

"Hey, don't worry about him," Drew says, noticing. "He's just in a bad mood."

"But he's always like that. Did I do something? Because if I did, I can fix it," I say quickly. I don't want to be anyone's problem.

"Logan came out of the womb in a bad mood. I promise it has nothing to do with you." He seems sure of it, but I'm not fully convinced. "I'll talk to him, okay?"

I murmur a thanks, and he heads out with Austin trailing after him.

"Back to work, Drea," Killian says, his voice pulling me back.

I groan and slump against the couch. "I want a break. Math is stupid, and it's making me feel stupid."

Killian leans forward, elbows on his knees. "It's not stupid, and neither are you. One more problem."

"I don't think I'm smart enough," I whisper, staring at the page.

And then the voices start creeping in, the way they always do.

You're not good enough.

No one cares about you.

You're lucky I even gave birth to you.

You disgust me, stupid little girl.

Before I can stop it, tears are falling.

"Hey." Killian's voice shifts, softer now. He moves to sit beside me on the floor. His arm hovers uncertainly before settling around my shoulders. "Don't cry. Math is hard for everyone. It takes time. You're smart enough, why would you even think you're not?"

I almost laugh at how stiff he looks trying to comfort me. But my chest is too heavy for it.

"They used to tell me I was stupid," I sniffle, my voice barely there. "That someone so stupid and sinful should never have been born."

I've never brought this up with any of the boys. I figured they knew something, and I didn't want to get into it. I only really talk about it with Dorathy and my therapist Clarice.

Killian's arm tightens around me. I glance up and see his jaw set, his expression closed off in a way I can't read.

"They said you..." He stops, exhales hard through his nose. His hand curls into a fist for a moment before he makes himself relax it. "They were wrong, Andrea. About everything."

"I'm sorry," I say suddenly, pulling away from him. Panic flares fast and bright. "I didn't mean to upset you, Ki. I promise it was an accident. I'll be good. I'll do better—"

The words trip over each other, coming out too fast. I have to stay good. I can't be a burden. I don't want them to send me away. I like it here. My breathing goes ragged, the room tilting at the edges. I want to stay so badly.

"Whoa, hey-" Killian's voice starts to fade as my vision blurs. Then familiar arms fold around me, and Dorathy's voice filters through the noise.

"It's okay, Andrea," she murmurs, holding me close. She smells like lavender and something warm, and even through the gasping it steadies me, just a little.

"What happened?" I hear Cade's voice, low and steady, somewhere behind us.

"I'm not sure," Killian replies, sounding tight. "She said she didn't feel smart enough, then mentioned her parents calling her stupid and sinful. Then she just she started panicking, saying she'd be good."

His voice grows distant as Dorathy lifts me and carries me upstairs. I feel small. I feel safe. Both at once.

She sets me gently on my bed and kneels in front of me, holding my hands in hers. "Deep breaths, Andrea. Breathe with me."

I try to follow her rhythm. My chest is so tight.

"Name five things you can see," she says, her voice even and warm.

I look around the room. "The teddy bear."

She nods.

"The door. The rainbow picture. My blanket."

"That's four. One more." Her thumbs make slow circles over the backs of my hands.

I look at her face. "You."

Her smile is so gentle. "Very good. Keep breathing. Four things you can touch."

I run my fingers over my pink blanket and the silk of my pajama bottoms. "My blanket. My pants." I lean over and press my hand to the nightstand, then the clock. "The nightstand. The clock."

"You're doing so well. Three things you can hear."

I close my eyes. The bathroom fan hums softly. Down the hall, voices murmur from a TV. Across from my room, something sweeps steadily back and forth.

"The bathroom fan. The TV. Someone sweeping."

Dorathy pulls me into a hug. That's when I notice I've stopped crying. My breathing has evened out.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispers, her hand moving through my hair. "What got you so upset, little love?"

I ease back a little, twisting my fingers together in my lap. "I started hearing their voices. All the things they used to say. And I told Killian, and he got upset, and I thought — I thought you'd send me away for causing trouble."

Dorathy cups my face in both hands, her eyes serious and steady. "Listen to me, Andrea. We will never send you away. And you didn't upset Killian, he was angry for you, at the things those people said to you. You are a joy in this house. You've brought a kind of light here that we didn't even realize was missing. We love you, little love. Very much."

Something warm spreads through my chest at that... strange and unfamiliar, but not unwelcome.

"I think I love you too," I whisper, wiping my face.

Her smile is soft and steady, and I still don't quite know how to take it in.

"Let's get you a bath," she says, standing and reaching for my hand.

My bathroom. I still can't believe I have my own bathroom. The tub even has jets for bubble baths.

After my bath, Dorathy helps me into a pink long-sleeve nightgown that falls to my ankles, gathers my dirty clothes, and tells me to come get her if I need anything.

I stand at my vanity and start brushing through my wet hair. I want it braided, a french braid.. but I don't know how. I head toward Drew's room since it's closest, but when I get there it's empty. I pad further down the hall, past the twins' rooms without stopping, until I reach Reid's room. It sits right next to Logan's, and thankfully the door is open. Reid and Drew are inside, deep in a video game.

I step in and come to stand right beside the couch. The room is enormous, like all of their rooms, but this one might be the messiest I've seen yet. The bed is unmade, clothes scattered everywhere, water bottles covering every surface.

"I think maybe you should clean a little," I say, wrinkling my nose.

They finally notice me and pause the game.

Drew snickers and elbows Reid. "She's not wrong, Ree. Clean yours and then come do mine while you're at it."

Reid laughs and declines flatly. "We have people for that."

Boys.

"What's up, Drea? Everything okay?" Drew asks, turning toward me and setting down his controller.

"Um," I hesitate. "Do either of you know how to braid? I want a french braid, but I don't want to bother Dorathy she's doing laundry."

I say the last part with a pointed look at Reid, who just smirks.

"Hand it over," Reid says, nodding at the brush and hair tie in my hands. I pass them to him, a little skeptical.

"You know how to braid?"

"Austin taught me," he says simply, patting the floor in front of him.

Austin can braid? Huh.

I sit down and Reid starts working the brush through my hair. I glance over at Drew, who's already picked his controller back up.

"Can I play too?"

"Sure." He tosses the second controller to me without looking. "Try to keep up."

I clap and start pressing buttons at random. My kart just sits there. I frown, watch what Drew does, copy him, and suddenly it moves. I grin and start trying to actually beat him, which is almost certainly not going to happen, but it's fun anyway.

"Are y'all seriously playing Mario Kart?" a voice comes from the doorway. I look over to find Logan and the twins peering in from the hall. The comment was obviously Logan's. He's mean. I grin at him and nod enthusiastically anyway.

"Hold still, I'm almost done," Reid says, turning my face back forward.

"You okay, Drea?" Killian asks from behind us.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I say, keeping my eyes on the screen. "Sorry for making such a fuss earlier."

"Don't ever apologize for feeling things. You didn't make a fuss, I promise." His voice is firm and gentle at the same time. I blink fast so I don't tear up and give a small nod, hoping he understands what I can't put into words.

"All done," Reid announces, setting down the brush. I finish the round, jump up, and find the nearest mirror.

I bounce on my heels. I spin around and throw my arms around him.

"Thank you, I love it," I say, letting go and looking around the room.

Logan is by the door, unimpressed as ever. He catches Reid's eye. "You ready?"

Reid nods and follows him out, Austin going with them.

I look around the now quieter room and feel something settle warmly in my chest.

I'm so glad Olive brought me here.