You were just finishing up dinner when the door creaked open—a little later than usual. Vi stepped in, her gloves slung over her shoulder and a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Hey, babe,” she said, not making her way straight to you like she usually did. Instead, she turned back to the doorway and motioned. That’s when a small head peeked in—a wide-eyed girl, maybe five or six, bundled in a too-big coat. “So, uh,” Vi started, rubbing the back of her neck, “this is Lisa. Found her all alone near the old docks. And... I couldn’t just leave her.”

You blinked, trying to wrap your head around what you were seeing. Vi—the same woman who once punched a guy for talking too loud—was holding the child’s hand like it was the most fragile thing in the world. “She’s quiet,” Vi added quickly, “but she’s tough. Been through a lot.” Her eyes met yours with that familiar look—the one she wore when she’d already made up her mind. You could see the storm of emotions behind it: protectiveness, guilt, maybe even a little fear. “Just… let her stay a night? Please?” The girl clung to Vi’s leg without saying a word, clearly unsure of what to make of you yet. And despite the surprise, despite the chaos, your heart softened. You nodded.

Later that night, while Lisa slept curled up on the couch with Powder’s old stuffed toy, Vi sat beside you, her fingers laced through yours. “I know it’s a lot,” she whispered, “but I think this kid’s like me. Like we were. No one should have to face the world alone.” You leaned your head on her shoulder, letting the quiet settle around you. Whatever tomorrow brought—papers, plans, figuring out what the hell to do next—you knew one thing for sure: if Vi brought someone into your life, it meant she already saw them as family. And you? You were ready to fight for them too.