Page 3 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
Margaret looked up, her hazel eyes scanning the food, then Ava’s hands, and finally Ava herself before giving a brief nod.
Ava sat on the ground beside her and removed the food covering A well-placed piece of wood that masked the entire bowl in the first place. “See, I made your favorite. Bannocks.”
She tore off a piece of the bread and brought it closer to Margaret’s mouth. The ten-year-old ate without protest.
Ava watched her closely, noting how quickly she swallowed the bread. How long had she been hungry?
“Have you been studying the letters I taught you?”
Margaret nodded.
Ava brought another bite to the child’s mouth, which she took.
“And I take it you have been writing them somewhere?”
Margaret nodded and pulled out a piece of parchment from her pocket. She extended it towards Ava, who took it, her eyes scanning the letters the girl had written on the parchment.
Ava looked up at her, a smile spreading across her face. “See? You are getting it, aren’t you?”
Margaret said nothing, only responded with a brief smile.
Ava handed her another bite.
While some part of her did think there was an improvement from the past two weeks when she had first found Margaret—her bruises were almost completely gone, the bags under her eyes were beginning to clear, and the spark was slowly returning to her eyes—she couldn’t help but wonder if there was any more she could have done. Perhaps if she put in more effort, Margaret might have gained some weight and had a less bleak look in her eyes.
Perhaps she would’ve even spoken. Maybe a word or two.
Ava’s mind briefly returned to when Margaret was brought to her two weeks ago for the first time. She was found on the border, wandering alone. She’d looked lost, and Ava had known as soon as she’d seen her that she had to take her in.
People like Margaret were why she had built the orphanage in the first place. It was clear to her back then that the little girl needed a roof over her head and some food in her belly.
“What’s your name, child?” she remembered asking her.
She also remembered receiving no reply. Every word she had said to Margaret ever since had been met with complete silence. The girl had refused to speak two weeks ago when she was found, and she still hadn’t spoken a word to anyone ever since.
“Perhaps later this evening, I shall teach you even more letters and how to write them. How about that?” Ava suggested, studying her once again.
She brought another bite to her mouth, and Margaret took it, a flicker of mild satisfaction crossing her face.
“Would you like that?” she asked again.
Margaret nodded.
Ava smiled and handed her the parchment. “Good.”
She lifted another chunk of bread from the bowl and was about to hand it to her when a loud crash tore through the air.
Her head snapped to the kitchen door, her heart skipping a beat. Margaret must have heard it as well because she followed her gaze.
“What in the?—”
The crashing sound pierced the air again, this time a little louder.
“Get up,” Ava called to Margaret, a sense of urgency betraying her calm voice.
She held the little girl to her side, and they both moved further into the kitchen.
The crashing sound had stopped now, only to be replaced by firm and heavy footsteps. Ava felt goosebumps rise over her skin, but she managed to remain calm. The last thing she wanted was to scare Margaret even more.
