Chapter 19 Jinx
Chapter Nineteen: Jinx
Lily is waiting at the door when we arrive.
She must have been watching from the window, because the moment our car pulls up, she bursts out of the building and runs across the lawn. Her dark hair streams behind her. Her bare feet kick up dew from the overgrown grass. Her face is split with a smile so wide it looks painful.
I barely get out of the car before she slams into me squealing, throwing her arms around my trunk as I lay my hand on her head.
Asher comes around the car, stands beside us. Lily pulls back, looks up at him. "You guys are here. Finally. I was starting to get worried."
"Couldn't let him have all the fun." Asher grins, that easy, cocky grin that still makes me want to punch him sometimes. "Besides, someone has to make sure he eats breakfast."
"He doesn't like breakfast." Lily's voice is serious, knowing. "He drinks coffee and pretends that counts."
"See? You already know him better than I do."
Lily laughs. The sound is bright and startling, a child's laugh, free and unguarded. I've never heard her laugh before. Never seen her smile like this, open and unafraid.
This is what we fought for. This moment. This girl. This chance at something better.
"Come on." I stand, take her hand. "Let's go inside. You can tell us everything we missed."
The facility is different than it was before we left.
The halls are brighter, somehow. Doors propped open instead of closed. Children moving through the corridors in small groups, some talking, some silent, but all of them present in a way they weren't before.
Elliot meets us in the main room, looking less exhausted than he did before we left.
"They're responding," he says without preamble. "The therapy is helping. We've had three children remember their real names. Two more have started speaking that weren’t before. One of the older boys is helping in the kitchen."
"Good. Maybe there’s hope yet.”
Elliot nods. “We’ve got some of the best therapists here. It’ll happen, it’s just gonna take time.”
Lily tugs at my hand. "Can I show you my room? I painted the walls. Elliot let me pick the color."
"Yellow," Elliot says. "She wanted yellow because it was the brightest color they had."
"Yellow sounds perfect." I let her pull me down the corridor, Asher following behind.
Her room is small but warm. Yellow walls, as promised, covered with drawings in crayon and marker. A bed with a purple blanket. A shelf lined with books, some new, some old and battered. A stuffed rabbit that's seen better days, tucked carefully against the pillow.
"I drew those." Lily points at the wall. "That one's the house I want to live in someday. And that one's a dog. I've never had a dog, but I want one."
I study the drawings. A house with a big yard. A dog with floppy ears. People standing in front, stick figures with smiling faces. Two tall ones and one small one.
"Is that us?" Asher asks, pointing at the stick figures.
Lily nods, suddenly shy. "Is that okay? I wasn't sure if... I mean, you said I could stay, but maybe you didn't mean forever, and I didn't want to assume—"
"It's okay." I cut her off before she can spiral. "It's perfect. I like the dog."
"His name is Biscuit."
"Biscuit." I look at Asher. "Apparently we're getting a dog named Biscuit."
"I'm not walking it in the rain."
"That's fine. Lily and I will walk Biscuit in the rain, and you can stay inside and be boring."
Lily giggles. The sound warms something in my chest, loosens a knot I didn't know was there.
"Do you want to see the garden?" She's bouncing now, energy radiating off her in waves. "The big kids are planting vegetables. Tomatoes and carrots and things. They said I could have my own patch if I want."
"Show us."
She leads us through the facility, chattering the whole way. Telling us about the other children, the therapists, the food, the games they play. Her words tumble over each other, fast and eager, like she's been saving them up for days.
I listen. Watch her move through a space that's becoming home. See the way the other children look at her, the way she waves at them, the way she's carved out a place for herself. It’s hard to believe this is the same little girl that looked soulless a few days ago, but she’s blossoming so quickly.
Must be the fact she has us. The thought is strange as it rolls around in my head, but it’s true, nonetheless. Safety in the arms of a couple of big dudes who murder people that murder people.
She's going to be okay. Not fixed, not healed, but okay. Moving forward. Building something new from the wreckage of what she was.
The garden is a patch of turned earth behind the main building. Several older children are digging, planting, watering. One of them, a boy maybe fifteen, looks up as we approach.
"Lily." He nods at her, then looks at me. His eyes are careful, assessing. The eyes of someone who's learned not to trust. "These are your people?"
"Yeah." Lily squeezes my hand. "This is Jinx. And Asher. They're going to be my dads."
The boy studies us. Takes in the weapons we're still carrying, the look in my eyes that says exactly what I am.
"You're like us," he says. "From the Foundry."
"A long time ago."
"But you got out. You're different now."
"I'm still working on the different part." I hold his gaze. "But I got out. That's the point. It's possible. Whatever they did to you, whoever they tried to make you, you can still become something else."
The boy is quiet. Then, slowly, he nods.
"I'm Marcus," he says. "I used to be Nineteen."
"Jinx." I extend my hand. "Nice to meet you, Marcus."
He shakes my hand. His grip is firm, his eyes a little brighter than they were.
"Lily talks about you," he says. "Says you’re the one who came into the facility and saved everyone. Says you killed the director."
"Lily talks too much."
"No, it's good." Marcus glances at the other children, then back at me. "It helps. Knowing someone like us could do that. Could fight back and win."
"You can fight back too when you’re ready."
"Will you teach me? When I'm ready?"
I look at this boy, this child who was stolen and broken and is slowly putting himself back together. I see myself in him. See all the Foundry kids I've ever known, the ones who made it and the ones who didn't.
"Yeah," I say. "When you're ready, I'll teach you."
We stay at the facility for two weeks.
Partly because the paperwork for Lily's adoption takes time and we want to do this legally, ensuring we will never be apart again. Partly because Jagger has things to coordinate, the new order to solidify, the Silent's transition to oversee.
Mostly because Lily isn't ready to leave.
"I don’t want to say goodbye yet," she tells me on day three. "They're my friends now. We survived together."
So we wait. We help where we can. Asher works with the kitchen staff, cooking meals that actually taste good. I spar with the older kids who want to learn to fight, teaching them control instead of chaos. We eat dinner with my brothers and their men, like we’re a big family.
At night, Lily sleeps between us in the too-small bed we've claimed. She has nightmares, sometimes. Wakes up screaming, thrashing, convinced she's back in her cell. I hold her and talk her through it, tell her where she is, who she's with, that she's safe.
Some nights are worse than others. Some nights I barely sleep, watching her, making sure she's breathing properly.
"You're going to make yourself sick," Asher murmurs on night eight. "You can't protect her every second."
"Watch me."
"Jinx." He props himself up on one elbow, looks at me in the dim light. "She's going to be okay, but you won’t be if you don’t sleep."
I stare at the ceiling, the weight of responsibility pressing down. "I'm responsible for her now. If I fuck up, she's the one who suffers. If I fail, she's the one who pays."
"And if you succeed?"
"Then she wins in life."
Asher is quiet. Then he reaches over, takes my hand.
"You're already succeeding," he says. "Look at her.
She laughed today. She played with the other kids.
She drew pictures of dogs and houses and a future she actually wants.
" His thumb traces circles on my palm. "That's you.
That's what you've given her. What we’re giving her because you’re not parenting her alone. "
Lily stirs between us, mumbles something, settles back into sleep.
I watch her face, soft and unguarded. The fear smoothed away by rest. The trust that lets her sleep between two killers and not flinch.
"I love her," I say. The words come out raw, surprised. "I didn't expect to. Not this fast."
"I know."
"I love you too. Both of you. This weird, broken, impossible family we're building." I turn my head, meet his eyes. "It feels so weird. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling.”
"Neither do I." He grins, that infuriating grin. "Guess we'll figure it out."
"That's a terrible plan."
"It's the only one we've got."
I kiss him, soft and slow, careful not to wake Lily. He kisses me back, one hand cradling my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone.
When we break apart, his eyes are bright.
"Get some sleep," he whispers. "Big day tomorrow."
"What's tomorrow?"
"I don't know. But it'll be big. They all are, with you."
I laugh, quiet and surprised. Settle back against the pillow. Let my eyes close.
The adoption papers arrive on day fourteen.
Jagger pulls the strings, calls in favors, makes things happen. By the time the bureaucratic dust settles, Lily Harrison exists on paper. Birth certificate, social security number, passport. A legal person with a legal name and legal parents.
"Lily Harrison." She traces the name on the document, wonder in her voice. "That's me. That's really me."
"That's really you." I crouch beside her, watch her face. "How does it feel?"
"Like... like I'm real now. Like I exist." She looks up at me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I've never existed before. Not as a person. Not as myself."