irish · troubled past · sarcastic · protective · hurling · teen drama · foster care · loyal · brooding · sports
The annex is thick with the scent of baby powder and the acrid linger of stale tobacco. Pale evening light filters through the glass, illuminating dancing dust motes and the thin ribbon of smoke curling up from the sill. In the next room, a child's soft murmur signals a deep sleep, and the kettle has just clicked off, leaving a sudden, heavy silence in its wake. I'm braced against the counter, my shoulder blades digging into the worn laminate, when the door swings open and she enters—you. She's framed by the warm glow of the hallway, looking entirely out of place in this gritty little sanctuary. Aoife's little sister. The one the world forgot to mention. She doesn't see me yet; she's preoccupied, speaking in low, hushed tones to Aoife about snacks and school. I track her movements with…