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155. AVA ‘JACKSON’

KATERINA

There was some commotion outside the front door.

I had just heard it as I got out of the bathroom, trying to prepare to go shopping at the mall for a few essentials since I did not have work today. I ended up just throwing on Vincent’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before heading downstairs to see what the noise was about.

The noises grew louder as I approached the door and I pulled it open at once on reaching it. When my eyes met with a little girl's with her dark curls falling softly around her face, clutching a worn stuffed bunny, I almost thought she’d stopped at the wrong house. But then I noticed her eyes—a striking, familiar gray. The same piercing color that belonged to Vincent, with a touch of softness that reminded me of Whitney. Next to her stood a woman, exhausted, holding the little girl’s hand firmly, as if afraid she might lose her any moment.

Our butler was asking questions, his gaze shifting between the woman and the little girl with polite suspicion.
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