Chapter One

Scarlett Jackson sat in the corner of her tiny bedroom by the kitchen on the ground floor with the lights off, hidden by the shadows. It was nothing more than a cupboard, really. Small, poky, barely enough room for a bed and a small chest where she kept her clothes. That was it. She didn’t have much anyway " never had. All her life she’d been passed around from care home to care home, foster parent to foster parent, since the day she was born. She’d been left in the hospital a day after birth, all attempts to contact her mother had failed, and there wasn’t any record of her father. Scarlett had never known love or family " not really, not the way other children do. She’d been abandoned at such a young age and then ended up in all the wrong places for a growing child. She’d learnt to fend for herself pretty quickly.

 

This, however, was by far the worst place she had ever ended up in. Here, Scarlett had her own personal tormenter, rather than a cycle of them like she was used to. That was the way things worked in most other care homes. But not here. She’d only been staying at Happy Endings Care Home for Children for two weeks, and already she was being abused. The other kids called her terroriser ‘The Wolf’. She didn’t understand why; at least not quite. Not yet. They’d started calling her ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ or just plain ‘Red’ as well. She didn’t understand that either. Maybe it was on account of the red hooded jumper she was wearing at that moment " that she was always wearing, to be truthful. It was dirty and grimy, and the bright colour it once was had faded to a shade of almost dark pink or burgundy, but she had never gone a day without it for the past four years. Thankfully, she hadn’t grown either.

 

Scarlett jumped when she heard her name being shouted from upstairs. She froze, not sure what to do. The dark haired girl jumped again when she heard a soft knock on the door and tensed up, her shoulders hunched and her spine curled over, knees pulled to her chest. She peeked up nervously as the old wooden door creaked open, strands of dark brown hair falling into her face and hiding it from view.

 

“Scarlett! You need to do your laundry in the next five minutes or it won’t get done! Everyone else has put theirs in. C’mon, hurry up.” The petite girl breathed a sigh of relief; it was only Melanie. Or Snow White, as the others called her. She was one of the oldest at seventeen and a half, and had been at the care home for twelve years. Scarlett couldn’t understand why she hadn’t gotten moved or been fostered, or even ran away yet. Melanie offered a comforting smile to the younger girl before she shook her head slightly and left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Slowly, Scarlett scrambled to her feet and grabbed the pile of dirty clothes sitting on the floor beside her bed before leaving the room. The pair of discoloured white sneakers she wore made little sound as she ran up the stairs, keeping her head ducked down and averting eye contact with anyone. She didn’t want to give Raoul, the bane of her existence, any reason to lash out at her again. The bruises still hadn’t faded from last time, purple and yellow bruises flowering across her arms and ribs. Nothing that would scar though, nobody got that. The social workers there didn’t like leaving anything that would last. It meant the chances of the kids being believed if they were reported were far worse. Besides, most of the abuse was psychological and emotional. It just took them a while to figure out where to strike.

 

Quietly, Scarlett pushed in her laundry with everybody else’s and turned on the machine before leaving the little laundry room on the third floor. The young teen stopped suddenly when she saw a pair of feet in black ballet flats in front of her and looked up, thinking it would be Alison Bayle, the daughter of Leila Bayle, one of the social workers. They called Alison Sleeping Beauty and her mother Maleficent. Allegedly, Bayle Sr was one of the worst social workers. Scarlett was extremely thankful that she rarely had contact with the woman.

                

Peeking up through long brown lashes, Scarlett breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Isabelle she had stopped in front or. Or Belle, as the others called her. Scarlett really couldn’t keep up with all these nicknames anymore.

 

“You okay hun?” Isabelle asked quietly, offering Scarlett a soft smile. Scarlett liked Isabelle, she was kind and caring, and had that motherly air to her that just made the younger girl feel safe and protected. Isabelle was the third oldest of the teenagers there, having turned seventeen only a week ago.

 

Scarlett nodded mutely in reply, shoving her slender hands with nails bitten to the quick deep into her jean pockets. Quietly, the two girls walked back down the stairs, Isabelle casting worried glances at Scarlett the whole time. The thirteen year old had barely said two words since she had arrived, and it was starting to worry everyone.

 

Everyone with a heart, that is.

 

When the pair reached the ground floor again, Scarlett trudged off in silence, intending to return to her miniature bedroom.

 

“Scarlett, why don’t you come and sit with the rest of us in the main room for a bit? Chores are done and the villains have all left us alone to go do their thing.” Seeing the doubt obvious in Scarlett’s face as the tiny girl bit her lip, looking at her feet as she shuffled them across the floor a little, Isabelle chose to continue, making her voice take on that wheedling, ‘you wouldn’t want to disappoint sweet little me’ tone that’s so hard to resist, with just a hint of encouragement to take off the edge.

 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. Everyone’s dying to get to know you a little.” Timidly, Scarlett looked up at that.

 

“T-they are?” She said hesitantly, stumbling over the words a little. She always had had a slight stutter, ever since she was about six or seven, but it became a lot stronger and more difficult to avoid whenever she was somewhere new, where she didn’t know anyone " just like here.

 

Isabelle nodded and smiled a little, holding one hand out to Scarlett.

 

“I promise you, they are.” Scarlett nodded shyly and took the proffered hand, letting Isabelle lead her into the shared lounge where the rest of the kids were sitting during one of their rare moments of relaxation. It wasn’t too loud, the noise level being more of a quiet murmur as they chatted quietly amongst themselves. Arianna, Adam, Melanie, Camilla, and Harry. Rihanna was locked in her bedroom as punishment for trying to run away. Again. The seven brothers, Darren, Rob, Will, Chris, Blake, Cory and Mark had already gone to bed as the eldest was ten and the youngest four, and it was half nine. The social workers hadn’t made that decision, oh no. Instead, Adam, Melanie and Isabelle had, being the three eldest and therefore the most responsible. They tended to make a lot of the decisions, and were the closest things to parental figures anybody had.

 

Scarlett stood in the door nervously as Isabelle let go of her hand and went to sit on the couch in between Adam and Melanie. She leant against the doorframe and watched the other teenagers without a word for a moment, before looking at the floor. Messy rivers of chocolate framed her olive skin, the ends resting just below her collarbone to contrast with the faded red of her sweat shirt. She scuffed the toe of one battered sneaker against the floor nervously, tucking her hands back into her pockets.

“Scarlett…Oh Scarlett…you in there?”

 

Scarlett jumped slightly and looked up, chewing on the inside of her lip.

 

“S-sorry…” The diminutive girl whispered, trailing off into silence. She looked up at the red haired girl standing in front of her, feeling slightly intimidated. Like Isabelle and Melanie, Arianna was exceedingly good looking. Scarlett always felt unimportant and irrelevant around them. Arianna smiled.

 

“It’s okay Red. Now come on in and sit down, yeah?” Scarlett nodded in silence as Arianna pulled her into the room by her sweat shirt sleeve, tugging her to sit down on one of the old bean bags scattered across the floor. Now between Camilla, who had been dubbed as Rapunzel, and Harry, otherwise known as Aladdin, with Arianna, or Ariel, opposite her, Scarlett couldn’t help but feel out of place. She didn’t really know any of the other teenagers at Happy Endings Care Home and hadn’t had many friends at her past care homes and foster homes, so sitting with them like this felt slightly alien to the young girl. She sat quietly as Camilla and Harry bantered back and forth easily, unaware of Arianna’s questioning gaze on her as she looked down at her knees.

 

“So, Red, how did you end up in this dump?” Harry asked after a brief lull in the conversation. Faintly startled, Scarlett looked up.

 

“Um, well, I-I was left in the h-hospital when I was er, born, and they c-couldn’t find my parents, so I um, I went into foster care, and I g-guess I just got p-passed round a lot.” Her voice was soft, timid and shy. Camilla smiled and rested one hand gently on Scarlett’s arm.

               

“Relax a little Red, there’s nothing to be scared of. It’s only us. We don’t bite.” The blonde girl smiled brightly, tucking one of the many strands of loose hair flying around her face behind her ear. Scarlett nodded quickly and hugged her knees to her chest, folding her hands inside the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

 

“Well, that’s a pretty suckish way to start life.” Harry said, bluntly before he felt a boot nudge him gently in the ribs.

 

“Ouch!” The dark skinned boy yelped and turned around to glare at Adam slightly, who sat there and smirked back at him.

“Play nicely,” The older boy chided him gently. Scarlett let out a small giggle as she watched the exchange between them. Isabelle looked over from her conversation with Melanie and smiled, mouthing, ‘keep talking!’ Shyly, Scarlett looked up and spoke again, fiddling with the frayed cuff of her sweat shirt.

 

“So, um, w-what about you guys? Scarlett realised then how truly out of place she was " the teenagers around her all knew each other and their stories intimately, and she herself knew none of them in the slightest. She really was an outcast amongst this tight knit family.

 

Harry shrugged in reply.

 

“Street kid. Don’t know what happened to my parents.”

 

“Ditched on a care home doorstep when I was a baby,” Camilla answered softly.

                

“Mum died when I was born and Dad got locked up when I was eight. No other relatives, so I ended up here.” Arianna murmured, looking at the floor, Scarlett immediately regretted ever opening her mouth to say a word after that admission.

 

“I don’t remember a thing.” Adam shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn’t matter to him anymore. Scarlett frowned, turning around to look at him.

 

“Had an accident when I was six, woke up and had no idea who or where I was, and no one came forwards to ‘claim’ me.” He elaborated, sandy blonde hair falling into his eyes.

 

“Oh,” Scarlett said softly, now really regretting saying anything. Hell, she even regretted agreeing to come and sit with them in the first place. Looking down, the brunette picked at her sleeves and chewed on her lip, now almost afraid of looking up in case she was faced with angry glares for daring to pry.

 

  “My stepmother ditched me because she didn’t fancy having to deal with a child and my father was never around anyway.” Melanie said, her lip curling with disgust at the thought of her parents as Isabelle reached out and rested a hand on Scarlett’s shoulder, whispering to her,

“Stop fretting, it’s okay. Telling our stories makes things a little easier.” Straightening up, the resident ‘mother’ spoke loud enough for everybody to hear.

 

  “It was just me and my dad until I was seven; my mum had run off when I was still a baby. And then he died and I came here. That’s all there is to it.” Scarlett looked up at Isabelle, whose face was surprisingly neutral for one who had just summarised a traumatic lifestyle. Scarlett’s golden brown eyes didn’t miss Adam’s hand reaching for Isabelle’s under one of the tattered cushions, and she smiled slightly to herself. Nicknaming them Beast and Belle was right, and they did look quite sweet together " but Scarlett was sure they weren’t actually together, which confused her a little. Surely they should be?

 

All of them froze as they heard the steady thump of footsteps come down the main staircase.

 

“Raoul…”Scarlett whispered, as the others came out with quiet murmurs of “Wolf.” She would know those footsteps anywhere. The amount of times she’d heard them thundering down the stairs to her bedroom ensured that she could recognise them a mile off. She shuddered in fear, pulling her sweatshirt around her tightly.

 

Scarlett nearly jumped a foot in the air when she felts a pair of arms wrap around her from behind before she realised it was Melanie pulling her back against the older girl’s chest.

 

“Shush, Red…” The teen murmured into Scarlett’s delicate ear in an attempt to calm her as the pair of them, along with all the other care kids in the room, sat watching the door, just waiting for it to open.

 

And then it did.

 

With a loud bang, the thin wooden door swung back to hit the wall, the handle leaving a dent " or rather, enlarging the dent that was already there. The door had been swung back hard so many times that there was now a deep groove in the wall beside it from the handle, and they were sure that before long it would go straight through " the walls weren’t very strong in the care home and were practically paper thin.

 

Standing there in the doorway, his impressive bulk filling it until all light from outside of the room was blocked out, was Raoul Llywarch, cook, social worker, and Scarlett’s personal demon.

 

“You,” He growled, pointing one meaty finger at the tiny, brunette girl sitting on the floor, shaking. Scarlett gulped nervously, curling and shrinking into herself until she seemed miniscule amongst the others.

 

“Cm’ere. NOW!” Trembling, the petite thirteen year old stood and slowly walked over to him, keeping her eyes firmly glued onto the floor. She didn’t dare to look up into that grizzled, scarred face which was more than likely emanating anger. She knew exactly what she would see. Orange, tangled hair frizzing out around his red, contorted face, in which dark eyes flashing with cold fury were embedded, atop an incredibly large frame, consisting of both muscle and fat in equal measures. Raoul himself was new there, having been at the care home for nor more than a month longer than Scarlett herself had been, and there were all sorts of rumours about where he had come from. Some said he was an ex-marine, others a former sumo wrestler. The truth, however, was an unknown entity. He was just a big hulk of a guy who was s**t scary and liked to terrorise little girls.

                

No wonder they called him Wolf.

 

Shaking, Scarlett stood in front of him and dared a peek up at is face " and immediately wished she hadn’t. He looked angrier than he had all the other times put together. She knew none of the others would stand up to protect her " but she could understand that. Not even Adam stood a chance against Raoul, and he was pretty hefty himself. Besides, they had their own problems to deal with.

 

Scarlett fought back a desire to yelp as Raoul grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her out of the room. She looked back, unable to stop herself from sending the others an imploring look, her golden brown eyes beseeching them to help. Adam looked like he was about to bust a vein. Scarlett had learnt quickly that Adam despised the way the social workers treated the other care kids and did everything he could to stop it where possible. Isabelle had one hand resting on his arm in a soothing manner, and mouthed to Scarlett, ‘I’ll be along after to take care of things.’ Scarlett knew that reassurance and help to clean herself up after was the best she was going to get.

 

Still fighting a tremor that ran from head to toe, Scarlett forced the impulse to panic and kick and shout and scream down as she was half dragged, half pulled along to her bedroom. She swallowed the developing lump in her throat as Raoul practically threw her into the room, slamming the door behind him.

 

“You.” The heavyweight snarled, glaring at the mouse-like girl in front of him. Scarlett forced herself to stop trembling, looking up at him through her hair. She would not act like a scared little girl. Not anymore. No, now she would be stronger, better. No matter how scared she was, she would not show it to him. She would not give him the satisfaction of letting him see her fear; not anymore. Because after this, she would get out. There was no way that Scarlett was going to stay here any longer. Prospective foster families were due the next day, and if no one liked her, then she was running, and never coming back.

 

Slowly, Scarlett raised her gaze to look up at Raoul, her beautiful, old golden eyes hard and expressionless.

“What did I do?” she asked, her voice polite, yet holding an undercurrent of inner strength and tenacity. Raoul looked slightly taken aback; this was not the frightened little girl he had been used to. No, this was stronger. He wondered briefly if she’d had a lobotomy in the past five minutes.

 

“No groceries, perhaps? And look at this place, it’s a tip. Even a pig wouldn’t want to live in this,” The ginger giant sneered, looming over Scarlett, expecting her to back down. She didn’t. Straightening her back and setting her shoulders back, tilting her chin up, the petite girl looked him straight in the eye.

 

“I never knew I had to buy the groceries, and where am I supposed to keep anything? I have no room.” Raoul snarled and pulled his fist back, ready to hit her.

 

“Shut up, you little freak. I didn’t tell you to speak.” He growled, before hitting her in the ribs. Hard. Scarlett couldn’t stop herself from whimpering in pain as he hit an old bruise, and Raoul smiled in a sort of sick satisfaction before hitting her again, harder this time. Scarlett yelped and fell to the floor, glaring up at him.

 

“You sick…twisted…evil…b*****d!” She panted out, holding a hand to her ribs. She was sure he had done some lasting damage this time.

 

“Shut. UP!” He shouted, kicking her on the other side of the ribs before leaning down and picking her up by the front of her sweat shirt, slamming her against the wall. Scarlett yelped again, now certain something, somewhere in her body was broken. Slowly, grunting with the effort as she felt his and pushing against her chest, compressing her lungs, the brunette brought one leg up before kicking it out  viciously, right into Raoul’s gut. The giant let go of her, more because of shock than pain, and Scarlett dropped to the floor with a thud. Breathing heavily, she scrambled to her feet and faced him head on, looking Raoul straight in the eyes. As he lunged for her, she ducked and brought her leg up once more to hit him in that sensitive spot she knew would cause him to double over and give her a chance to run " right between the legs.

Raoul backed off, doubled over.

“You…evil…b***h!” The monster ground out between gritted teeth. Scarlett smiled grimly and grabbed the black bag of clothes and bits of tat sitting by the end of the rickety old bed she had called hers for the past two weeks. There was no way she could stay now; not after that. Leaving Raoul in the middle of the room, Scarlett darted for the door and slammed it shut, breathing heavily. Limply slightly, having twisted her ankle when Raoul had let go of her and she had stumbled slightly, Scarlett hobbled to the front door. Pulling it open, she stopped for a moment and looked back over her shoulder to see Isabelle standing at the end of the corridor, watching her.

 

“I can’t handle anymore,” Scarlett whispered, her brown eyes silently pleading with Isabelle to stay quiet.

 

“I know.” The elder girl said simply, walking towards Scarlett. She wrapped her arms around the tiny brunette as she slipped something into the front pocket of her sweat shirt.

 

“Wait until you’re out of here before you look…and try your damned hardest now to come back.” Isabelle murmured into the caramel whorls of Scarlett’s ear, causing the younger girl to frown slightly, before giving her a gentle shove out of the front door.

 

  “Now go, and take care of yourself.” Scarlett nodded and moved as quickly as she could down the path " which was surprisingly fast considering the fact that she had at least two bruised ribs, a fractured wrist and a twisted ankle, as well as a multitude of bruises and a scrape across one cheek.

 

Reaching the end of the path, Scarlett looked back at the old house as she opened the front gate. Glancing up at the windows on the top floor, the brunette sighed when she saw Jennifer standing there, watching her. If there was one person Scarlett would have taken with her, it would have been Jennifer. The half-Indian girl was the closest to Scarlett in age, and she knew full well how much Jennifer wanted to get out. But there wouldn’t be time to go back and fetch her now " and besides, it was no longer safe for Scarlett to stay at the care home. Raoul was sure to have recovered enough to come after her by now. Silently, Scarlett slipped through the twisted black iron gates without another look back, pulling it shut behind her. The gate screeched in protest and Scarlett winced " partly at the sound, and partly because she’d cut her finger on the sharp metal. Sucking on the offending finger, Scarlett paused for a moment, choosing which way to go. Left, towards the bus stops, or right, down the high street and into the town centre and the train station. Either option offered a way out. Eventually, Scarlett made her decision.

 

Turning left, towards the bus stops, Scarlett began to walk. Each step was like a dagger was being sliced through her ankle, and each breath a shard of glass through her ribs, but that didn’t stop her. Nothing could, not anymore. Slowly, she reached the corner and, finally out of sight of the care home, stopped. Leaning back against the high brick wall, she tilted her head up to look at the sky. It was still only half dark, but it was enough to make it difficult to see from a distance. Dropping her bag to the ground, letting it thud against the gritty pavement, Scarlett reached into her pocket and pulled out whatever it was Isabelle had given her.

 

Blinking a bit in shock, Scarlett unfolded the wodge of twenty pound notes in her hand and started counting them. Twenty…Forty…Sixty…Eighty…One hundred…One hundred twenty…one hundred forty…one hundred sixty. Suddenly, the thirteen year old felt terrible. She couldn’t accept that much money from the girl she had begun to look up to as a sisterly or maternal figure! But she couldn’t go back and give some back either…Scarlett sighed, and resolved to pay Isabelle back as soon as she could.

 

Peeling off a single note, Scarlett put the rest of the money back in the money when she felt something else brush against her hand. Frowning, she pulled it out. A small piece of blank white card. Tilting her head to the side curiously, she flipped the scrap of card over, running her thumb over the plain edge.

 

“Ouch!” The brunette whispered and sucked on the soft, fleshy pad of her thumb after receiving a papercut. Another injury to add to the growing list. Licking away the blood and scrunching her face up at the metallic taste, Scarlett read the card carefully.

 

“The Mary Fisher Shelter for Abused Women and Children, 192-196 Howard Road,” Scarlett said to herself slowly, running her finger underneath the words. Scarlett had struggled in school throughout her life so far and still struggled with it, especially with reading and writing, so reading out loud was pretty common for her.

 

Scarlett thought for a moment. Yes, she knew where that was " in fact, it was just a five minute bus journey from where she was now. She couldn’t help but smile a little; obviously Isabelle was prepared for all sorts of events. The pretty smile lighting up her face faded quickly, however " why hadn’t Isabelle used the information for herself and left a long time ago? Surely, after having lived at the care home for so long, she would want to get out? There was no real reason for her to stay, at least nothing big enough to counteract the massive amounts of abuse and trauma she must have suffered at the hands of the social workers there. Then again, Isabelle didn’t seem the type to just up and leave the people she cared about, especially if she would be leaving them in danger. No, she wouldn’t do that. She would stay and protect the others for as long as she possibly could. And then there was Adam. Scarlett was sure Isabelle had a thing for the older boy, and thought it highly unlikely that Isabelle would just leave him that easily.

 

Scarlett suddenly felt enormously guilty. Surely, she too should have stayed, no matter how little she could do to help out. She could have helped with the seven brothers though, at the very least! But then…if she had stayed, then Raoul would have seriously injured her before long.

               

Or worse…if Scarlett had really riled that horrible monster up, there was no doubt in Scarlett’s mind that he would kill her " or at least try to. The brunette shuddered at the thought as she slipped the card back into her pocket with the money. Slowly, he pushed herself off from the wall with one hand, testing out her ankle before resting all her weight on both legs. She then winced, her angelic face contorting in pain as her ankle screamed in protest, and made the decision to slightly favour her non injured leg, resting mainly on that one instead. Limping heavily now, one hand over her ribs, Scarlett walked down the street, bag in hand. Overhead, street lamps flickers and she shivered, now very aware of how dangerous it was for her to be out this late at night all alone.

Moving faster now, Scarlett hobbled along, her injured foot dragging slightly on the cold, hard, grey concrete slabs of the pavement. Eventually, she reached the bus stop, and there Scarlett perched on the bench under the shelter. The paint was flaking and the metal underneath was rusting, and Scarlett knew full well that it would leave marks on her jeans, and possibly her sweat shirt too, but the young teenager didn’t mind as she sat there studying the bus timetables posted on the wall, her bag by her feet and her legs swinging slightly. Marks on her jeans were the last of her worries right now " a bigger concern was that Raoul would come looking for her. Hopefully, he wouldn’t, and would just write her off as gone for good.  Humming quietly to herself, Scarlett scanned the list of buses and times until she found one that would take her to a stop just down the road from the shelter " a thirty second walk, if that.

 

Patiently, Scarlett waited. The bus was due within the next five minutes, provided it was on time, and she had the money for it, so that wasn’t a worry. Before long, she would be there, where she would be safe and everything would be okay. A thought struck her then " surely at the shelter, they would ask questions, wouldn’t they? About how she was injured, and who did it, and where? And Scarlett knew she was a terrible liar, so she would have to tell them the whole truth " and it wasn’t like she wanted to lie about it anyway, she wanted Raoul to go to prison for what he had done to her " which would mean that social services would have to get involved…which meant that things could be changed drastically for the better back at the care home. She could change everything, turn around the lives of the other children and teenagers there, and make everything so much better for them.

 

Scarlett was startled out of her thoughts when the bus arrived. She stood up slowly and hurried onto it as best she could, paying quietly before taking a seat near the front. Ten minutes later, a little longer than anticipated due to a traffic jam, she was just down the road from the shelter. Slowly, the brunette walked up the street, her head down and her hands thrust deep into her pockets, determined to be as unnoticeable as possible.  In her own time, she reached the front door of the shelter and, shivering slightly from the cold, rang the doorbell. Scarlett waited for a moment, rubbing her arms to keep warm, before the door was opened by a woman with kind eyes and a lined face " the type of woman who would be the perfect mother.

“Oh come in dear, you must be freezing!” The woman said sympathetically, ushering Scarlett inside. Gratefully, the brunette stepped inside out of the cold, her small frame hunched over.

 

“I’m Sylvia, and you are? Come through to the kitchen now dear, I’ll make you some hot chocolate to warm you up and you can tell me everything.” Scarlett smiled slightly, she quite liked Sylvia’s continuous stream of chatter. It was oddly comforting.

 

“Scarlett Jackson…I came from the nearby children’s home…” Sylvia stopped and turned around to look at Scarlett critically.

 

“You’re not just running away, are you? No, no, you’re limping; you can’t be, not without reason.” Sylvia nodded satisfactorily to herself and started walking again, leading Scarlett through to the back of the house, to the kitchen.

 

“Now, sit down sweetheart, and I’ll pop the kettle on. How old did you say you were again?”

 

“I didn’t…but I’m thirteen.” Scarlett said softly as she fell into a chair and dropped her bag on the floor, relieved to take the weight off her ankle. Sylvia merely tutted as she made a cup of coffee for herself and a large mug of hot chocolate for Scarlett. Within a minute or two, both cups were made and in front of them on the table, with Sylvia now seated opposite Scarlett.

 

“Now, dear, you must tell me everything, and you mustn’t miss a single thing out, okay?” Scarlett nodded and took in a deep, calming breath, before starting to recount her story. Sylvia listened patiently and quietly for a full hour before Scarlett was finished. The teen had tears streaked down her cheeks and had had to stop several times, but she had got it all out eventually.

 

“Oh sweetheart…Well, let’s find you a bed for the night and get you all fixed up, and then tomorrow we’ll start dealing with things, okay?” Scarlett nodded mutely in reply and followed Sylvia as the elder woman took her hand and led her through the house to a small, empty bedroom.

 

“Now, this is yours. Wait right here while I go get some bandages and arnica, and we’ll get you all sorted in no time.” Quietly, Scarlett murmured her thanks and sat down on the bed as Sylvia left the room. She yawned and stretched slightly, only now realising how tired she was. Surely it wouldn’t do any harm to lie down, just for a little while?

 

Within seconds of her head hitting the pillow, Scarlett was out like a light, still fully dressed. She would awake the next morning to find herself in a clean set of pyjamas with her wounds bandaged, and her sweatshirt freshly washed with a clean set of underwear, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt hanging over the end of her bed.