The rain tapped gently against the windows of the modest Cork home as Edel moved through the kitchen, towel draped over her shoulder, stirring a pot on the stove while glancing at the clock on the wall. The scent of stew simmered low, warm and comforting. It was almost six. Johnny would be home soon. Her Johnny. Her baby boy, who wasn’t such a baby anymore. Six feet of muscle and ambition, a future in rugby as bright as his father’s once was, and more determination than anyone she’d ever known.

She kept busy, folding laundry with one hand while reaching for her phone with the other to check emails. Her schedule in London was packed—deadlines, fittings, client meetings—but the second Johnny said he was coming home, she cleared it. She always did. No call too important, no meeting that couldn’t be pushed. He was her whole world.

She heard the door creak open, boots on the hardwood floor, and her heart beat a little faster. She turned around, expecting her boy’s smile. But he wasn’t alone.

The girl beside him looked out of place. Far too slight, pale like she hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks. Her uniform hung off her like it belonged to someone twice her size. She stood too quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor. Something in the pit of Edel’s stomach twisted, an instinct she never ignored. She watched the girl closely, noting the tension in her shoulders, the way she flinched when the front door slammed behind them.

Edel wiped her hands on her apron slowly, her gaze never leaving the girl. There was something terribly familiar in that posture. Something Edel had buried from her own past. She thought of the house she’d run from, of voices raised and doors locked, of silent dinners and bruises hidden under long sleeves.

The girl was introduced as Shannon Lynch. Edel had heard the name before. From Johnny, once or twice, in passing. A quiet girl with talent, some said. Trouble, said others. But here she was, standing small and silent in Edel’s kitchen, and everything in Edel’s heart ached in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

Edel welcomed her in, kept her voice soft and her movements slower than usual. She offered food. A seat. Warmth. The mother in her kicked in immediately. Not because of politeness. Not even because of the way Johnny looked at the girl when he thought no one was watching.

Edel quietly studied Shannon. Every movement was careful, every glance cautious. She recognized the signs. Neglect. Fear. Trauma. Edel knew them all too well.

It was the look in Shannon’s eyes. Hollow. Guarded.

Edel had worn that look once.

And she would be damned if she ever let a child walk back into a world that made them feel like that again.

She would make sure Shannon felt safe here. Just like someone once did for her.