Chapter 81 Noelle
NOELLE
Noelle sat on the splintered front steps of her grandmother’s house, one arm around her Abuela’s delicate shoulders, the other resting on her own knee.
The old wood creaked beneath them, still showing signs of the brutal invasion that had just taken place.
The door hung crooked on its hinges, the screen ripped half-off, its metal frame twisted.
But her grandmother was safe, and that was all that mattered.
Bright and Burn stood a respectful distance away, speaking in low voices as they waited for a new shuttle to arrive, their huge bodies silhouetted against the glow of the rising moon. Burn’s arms were crossed over his broad chest while Bright looked skyward, watching for the incoming ship.
Noelle wasn’t ready to look up just yet. She wasn’t ready to leave.
“Abuela…” she began gently. “The boys already called another shuttle—it’ll be here soon to take us back to the Mother Ship. I want you to come with me. I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
Her grandmother gave her a loving but firm smile and patted her hand.
“You go spend Christmas with your two men friends, mi hija,” she said in a low, affectionate voice. “I will be just fine. I’m just so glad they came in time to stop that horrible Branson from hurting you!”
Noelle swallowed hard against the lump rising in her throat.
“Are you sure you want to stay?” she asked, searching the older woman’s eyes. “It might not be safe here, Abuela. Not until we know for sure—”
“I’ll keep her safe with me,” a new voice chimed in, bright and sharp as a bell.
Noelle turned to see her grandma’s next door neighbor, Thelma shuffling up the walk, her flowered house dress fluttering in the breeze. She was short and stocky, her snow-white curls bouncing as she moved. Despite her age, her faded blue eyes were alert and full of fire.
“Rosario and I have been best friends for a coon’s age,” Thelma declared, hooking her arm through Abuela’s firmly. “Ain’t no agents getting into my house without a warrant.”
She gave Noelle a knowing look and patted the side pocket of her housedress. The unmistakable shape of a heavy metallic object bulged beneath the thin cotton fabric.
“And even if they try to get one,” she added, “I’ve got my own firearm.”
Noelle raised her eyebrows. “Is that a—”
“We’re a stand your ground state, you know,” Thelma said primly, lifting her chin. “Ain’t nobody taking my friend. And we’ll have a real nice Christmas together. Got plenty of cookie dough, and I’ve got that Tom Jones Christmas CD Rosario likes so much.”
“Oh, Thelma.” Abuela gave a little chuckle and dabbed at her eyes with the corner of her cardigan sleeve.
Noelle looked from one woman to the other. Despite her worry, she couldn’t help but smile. These two had weathered a lot of storms together—and they weren’t about to stop now.
“Go, hija,” Abuela said softly, cupping Noelle’s cheek in her palm. Her fingers were papery and cool, but full of warmth. “Enjoy yourself while you’re young. Come see me after—I’ll be here.”
Noelle leaned in and hugged her tightly, breathing in the comforting scent of cinnamon and lavender. Her eyes burned, but she blinked the tears away.
“I’ll come check on you after Christmas,” she whispered. “I promise.”
She pulled back and kissed her grandmother’s cheek one last time, then stood and turned to face Burn and Bright.
They were already watching her, waiting silently, their gazes warm and full of unspoken emotion.
“Come on, boys,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “Let’s go back home.”