Chapter 21
The morning sun hits the polished floors of the main lobby, casting long rectangles of light across the open space.
It’s been exactly a year since we opened the doors, and the Sunflower Center has finally found its rhythm.
The air smells like fresh coffee from the staff lounge and the lemon-scented cleaner the janitorial crew uses every morning. It’s a busy, productive atmosphere.
I stand by the large front windows, checking the intake schedule on my tablet. We’re at capacity, but an emergency case came through last night that I couldn’t turn down. A dark sedan pulls into the circular driveway, and I recognize the driver before she even cuts the engine.
Martha has been a social worker since before I could walk. I’d know that thick braid of graying hair anywhere; she always wears it the same way, pinned tight and professional. She’s one of the few people who didn't roll their eyes when I first pitched this project.
Martha steps out of the car, stretching her back before walking around to the passenger side. She leans in to talk to someone, her expression patient. After a minute, a small girl climbs out.
She’s tiny for an eight-year-old, with pale, fair skin that makes the dark circles under her eyes look even deeper.
Her hair is a tangled mess of dark brown curls, almost black, that looks like it hasn't seen a brush in a week. She grips the straps of a faded purple backpack like her life depends on it. Her eyes are a stormy, haunted gray, scanning the building fast for exits or threats. I recognize that vibrating readiness in her shoulders. It’s the same way I used to stand.
I walk toward the entrance, keeping my movements loose and my pace steady. I push open the glass door and step out into the crisp air.
"Good to see you, Martha." I offer a quick nod.
Martha adjusts her glasses and nudges the girl forward. "You too, Zora. This is Lily. Lily, this is Miss Zora. She’s the boss around here."
I drop to a crouch, making sure I’m not towering over her. I keep a few feet of space between us. "It’s nice to meet you, Lily. It's a big place, but it's pretty easy to navigate once you get the hang of it. You hungry? The kitchen just put out some fresh muffins."
Lily just stares at my golden hair, then looks back at Martha. She isn't crying, which is almost worse. She’s just bracing herself.
"I’ll take it from here, Martha. Jules is over in the nursery wing if you want to grab a coffee before you head back to the city."
Martha gives the girl’s shoulder a final, encouraging squeeze. "I think I’ll do that. I saw your last update on the sensory room and wanted to talk to Jules about the layout."
I watch Martha head toward the staff lounge. Jules has been a lifesaver this past year. She spent years as my camerawoman and editor back when RadiantLife was just us two and a dream, but now she runs our nursery and toddler department.
We still do updates for the followers—they're our biggest source of funding—but Jules is the one who handles the filming now while I handle the advocacy. We’re both fiercely protective; we show off the new garden or the high-end medical cribs, but we never put the kids on camera.
Jules has traded her editing software for nap schedules and sensory play, and she’s never looked happier.
I turn back to Lily and gesture toward the hall. "Come on. I’ll show you where you’re staying. We'll stop by the clinic later so Micah can do a quick wellness check, but for now, let's get you settled."
We walk through the lobby, and I point toward the wing with the classrooms. "We have our own school here, Lily. Most kids go to the public school down the block, but we have teachers right here for the ones who aren't quite ready for the big crowds yet. It’s smaller, quieter. You’ll probably start there for a few weeks while you get settled. "
Lily stops to look through the glass door of one of the smaller classrooms. A teacher is sitting on a rug with a couple of kids, reading a story. Her shoulders drop about half an inch. The quietness of the classroom seems to appeal to her.
We pass the nursery wing, and I spot Jules through the windows. She’s sitting on a thick foam mat, a toddler balanced on each knee while she makes faces to get them to laugh. She catches my eye and gives me a quick wave before going back to the kids.
"That’s the nursery." I point through the glass. "And down this way is the cafeteria. You get to pick your own snacks there. No one's going to tell you that you can't have an extra apple if you're still hungry."
We head up to the second floor, the wood-looking flooring silent under our feet. "You’re in Room 202. Your roommate is Sophie. She’s seven, and she’s the best Lego builder I’ve ever met. If you need a tower built, she’s your girl."
I open the door to 202. It’s a bright, airy room with two beds and a big window. Sophie is sitting on her bed, her tongue poked out in concentration as she snaps blocks together. She looks up, her pigtails bobbing.
Sophie looks over at us. "Is she the new kid?"
I nod."She is. Sophie, this is Lily. Lily, meet Sophie."
Lily stays right at my side, her fingers twisting into the fabric of my blazer.
There's a tension in her, like she’s waiting for the catch.
She has the same spark in her eyes that I had when I was the girl who had a hard time keeping connections when I couldn't recognize anyone, even the people I cared about, not without a lot of effort and the hope they wouldn't change their appearance.
"I have the astronaut bed." Sophie points to the quilt covered in planets. "Zora said you get the one with the cats because you like animals. I have some extra blocks if you want to build a house for them."
Lily looks at the kitten quilt. Her grip on my sleeve loosens just a bit. She takes a tentative step into the room, her eyes tracing the empty desk and the shelves that are now hers.
She moves to sit on the edge of the bed and runs her hand over the quilt before she looks up at me. "Thank you."
I swallow hard as I stare at her. The look in her eyes tells me she may not have had a bed to sleep in for a while.
I know all too well what that's like."Of course.
I'll leave you to get settled and I'll be back in about half an hour to check in on you.
Sophie, make sure she knows where the extra pillows are. "
I pull the door shut and stand in the hall for a second, just listening to the soft conversation starting up inside. I’ve seen hundreds of kids come through this building, but something about the way Lily sat on that bed makes the room feel different.
I pull my phone out and open the pack’s group chat. I type the message fast.
Zora:
Meet me in my office. Now.
I barely have time to set my tablet on the desk before the door to my office swings open.
The guys drift in, looking like they’ve all been mid-task.
Reid has his sleeves rolled up, his blond hair a mess from running his hands through it.
Dameon and Theo follow him in, looking a bit more relaxed than usual, while Micah hangs back by the door, already checking over some notes on his phone.
The intimidating presence they used to have has shifted into something familiar and steady.
Reid stops a few feet from my desk. "Zo? Martha said the intake went okay, but you sounded intense in the chat. What's up?"
"Everything is fine." I lean back against the front of the desk and cross my arms. "Just sit for a minute."
They don't bother with the chairs. Dameon leans against the bookshelf, his massive frame making the wood creak, while Theo hops up on the edge of the long conference table.
Over the last year, this has become our routine.
Reid handles the board and the legal headaches; Dameon keeps the facility running and the security tight; Micah is the medical director; and Theo runs our after-school STEM club.
"Lily arrived about an hour ago." I look over at Micah.
Micah looks up from his phone, rubbing the back of his neck.
"The eight-year-old? I saw her in the hall with Martha. She looked like she was ready to bolt if someone breathed too loud. I’ve already got Dr. Elisabeth Miller scheduled to do her physical after lunch.
I figured a female doctor would be better for her right now. "
I stand up and walk over to the window, looking out at the courtyard.
We’ve talked about this before, mostly late at night when we’re all exhausted and the building is finally quiet.
We’ve brought up the idea of eventually adopting one of the kids ourselves, but it always felt like something for the 'future.
' We said we’d know when the right kid came along, but I didn't think it would actually happen on a random Tuesday.
"I watched her in Room 202." I turn back to them, shoving my hands into my pockets.
"She didn't even take her backpack off. She just stood there tracking the door while Sophie tried to show her the Legos. It’s that look in her eyes—the one that says she’s already decided that this place is just another stop on the way to somewhere worse.
She lost her mom last month. Drug problem finally caught up with her, and there's no one else.
No aunts, no grandparents, nothing. She's completely alone in the world. "
Dameon watches me, his expression unreadable but his attention locked on. He doesn't look surprised; he just looks like he’s waiting for me to say the part I’ve been holding back.
"I want more for her." I move back toward the desk. "She doesn't need a facility, no matter how good we are. She needs a family. She needs to know that when she goes to sleep, the people in the next room are actually hers."
Reid steps into my space, his hands finding my waist and pulling me into his warmth. The scent of pine and sandalwood hits me instantly, grounding the nervous energy in my chest. "Zo... are you saying what I think you're saying?"