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Goodnight

Kennedy

Anna devours her soup like a starving person. She dips the bread right into the bowl and I watch with fascination as she dips her fingers right in after it. She cleans the bowl, the spoon squeaking against ceramic as she scrapes up every last drop.

I could watch her forever, and it surprises me, because I don’t remember ever feeling like this about Molly – not even back in the early days when things were new.

Even with tangles in her hair and an obvious layer of grime on her skin, Anna Josephine is a beautiful creature.

I’ve seen plenty of teenagers grow into attractive young women and never considered any of them as anything other than wards in my care, but this girl is different. Everything about her is different.

She’s unusually quiet as she places the empty bowl at her side, eyes fluttering as she struggles to stay awake. She shouldn’t be here, and yet having her here feels ridiculously good. Maybe Riven is right and this is a midlife crisis. Maybe I’m just a stupid old id
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