Through the window, I could see the dark shapes of the enclosures. Cooper would be sleeping in a tree by now, his healed wing tucked against his body. Abagail’s twins would be curled against their mother. Gerald would lay near the fence, and the fizzlings would be grounded and content.
And here I was. Home.
Grief had made me cling to my father’s home. I’d chosen this life for myself.
Brovish’s breathing evened into sleep, his arm heavy across my back.
I closed my eyes.
Morning would come soon enough, with rounds to make and creatures to tend. My mother would follow me around, taking her own small steps across the distance between us. The rescue would grow, and change, and demand more of me than I’d thought I had to give.
But tonight, I’d stay right here.
No need to run.
I’d already arrived.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
BROVISH
I’d spent two days preparing what I’d say. The words had formed in my notebook, refined until they felt true, but standing in the parking lot watching the adoption family’s vehicle approach, my hands wanted to shake.
I’d handle this later, after this family left with their new creature. I’d prove to myself one more time that Laina and I had built something worth declaring in front of everyone who mattered.
The vehicle crunched over gravel. I’d checked the schedule three times that morning, which Traig had noticed and commented on with a single raised eyebrow.
The family emerged from their car. Two parents and a daughter who might’ve been eight, maybe nine. The child spotted the facility and her face brightened.
“Are there really creatures from underground here?” she asked before her parents had finished closing the car doors.
“Many creatures,” I said, striding forward to greet them.
“You’re an orc,” the child exclaimed, tipping her head back to peer up at me.
“I am.” I stooped down and held out my hand. “I’m Brovish. Welcome to the Creature Rescue League.”
She danced on her toes as she shook my hand. “I can’t wait.”
“Would you like to come with me to meet them?”
Her nod was so vigorous her hair bounced.
Laina appeared in the doorway, with Sofia on her shoulder and five driftwhisps woven through her hair. The child’s eyes went wide.
“You have a whole collection of them,” the girl breathed, stepping closer.
“They chose me,” Laina said. “Sometimes creatures know who they want to be with before we do.”
Carol stood nearby, her phone in hand, taking notes. Her screen showed a list, and I caught fragments.Fizzling dietary requirements. Driftwhisp light cycle needs.
She’d been documenting creature care for days now. Small pieces of information she asked about during meals, or observations she made while following Laina through rounds. I wasn’t sure why, so I was watching, waiting for her reason to be revealed.
We escorted the family to the meet and greet area, where we’d set up comfortable seating and brought in three creatures for introduction. A mossnibble sat on its haunches in a contained space, its tiny front paws clasped, its nose wiggling. One of the calmer fizzlings waited in a second pen, and a young driftwhisp that Krem had been socializing specifically for adoption purposes floated in the air near one corner.
Laina guided them through each introduction. She explained their temperament, care requirements, and behavioral patterns. The parents asked questions about integration into their home. The daughter sat on the floor near the fizzling’s enclosure, watching the creature’s stripes glow.
“Why do the flying ones live in your hair?” the girl asked, pointing at the driftwhisps.
