(Moved from Pastebin.)

Heads up here, there's not going to be anything lewd in this story. It is strictly paternal.

This is looking to be a longer greentext (up until a certain point), so you can save your time if that's really not your thing.

***

>Be Anon.

>You've been living in your new house for a week now.

>Its the first time you've owned one yourself.

>You got it really cheap too.

>An old lady had been living there for a while until she felt it was too big for her alone. She really wanted to sell before winter struck.

>Apparently she had family in a far away neighborhood.

>You luckily had started scouting for a house around the same time she put it up for sale.

>The house itself wasn't half bad.

>Two-story,

>Well furnished kitchen and dining room,

>Spacious living room,

>Very spacious overall in fact.

>Partly due to how few of your belongings you had brought with you.

>Of course you'd be adding more stuff to make your house truly yours, but for now you didn't want to go splurging just yet.

>Even if your parents decided they'd be sending you money every month, despite your multiple refusals.

>You knew they just wanted to ensure your financial stability after purchasing a house, but you can't help but feel they don't have enough faith in your responsibility. You already have a budget planned.

>Your parent's money is going straight towards your savings account or paying bills.

>Work at your new job starts in a few days.

>It's in the city, but still very close to your suburban neighborhood. You could walk there with ease as long as you wake up early, but you still planned to get a car sometime in the future.

>For now you've stayed within your neighborhood.

>Before you moved in, you were warned that this area was fairly populated with anthros, which concerned your parents.

>Human-Anthro relations haven't been the best.

>Things today are definitely better than they used to be, but there are still many people on both sides who aren't comfortable being around the other.

>And unfortunately, every now and then, there'd be something tragic on the news to reflect that.

>To be honest, you weren't exactly sure your parents were concerned because of the violence they've seen on the TV...

>Or simply that they didn't like anthros.

>Either way they were slightly relieved when you learned that no anthros actually lived in your neighborhood.

>Only apartments in the city.

>Your parents want you to do your work from home as soon as your manager will allow it.

>But if you do work at home, it'll be your own decision.

>...

>You blink, then rub the sleep from your eyes.

>You've been sitting up in bed for a while now, lost in thought.

>Today, you had decided, you were going to try and get more acquainted with your neighbors.

>You stand up, feeling the pops in your back as you stretch, and head for your shower.

>

>"And we got married in that very backyard," Mrs. Norcott gestures to the sliding glass door leading outside.

>She's grinning ear to ear.

>"Really?" You were trying not to space off in the elderly Norcotts' living room.

>When you knocked on their door to introduce yourself, you hadn't expected them to invite you in.

>You also didn't expect them to tell you the story of their development from middle school sweethearts to husband and wife in detail.

>In LOTS of detail.

>Your tea was finished long ago.

>You'd been meaning to sneak a look at the clock just to see how much time has passed, but you refrained. Don't want to be rude during your first visit with your new neighbors.

>"Fancy marriages are a scam!" Mr. Norcott adds from kitchen.

>"Popularized by those who can make a profit off of them!"

>"Huh," you respond.

>He emerges from the kitchen with three more glasses of tea.

>"Our marriage was better than any of those wedding planners could have done anyway," he affirms with confidence. His wife nods in agreement.

>"You see, we put the whole thing together with the help of our family and friends. Oh! Remember what Mrs. Aberdeen prepared for us, Mikey?"

>That name rang a bell to you.

>"Mrs. Aberdeen? You mean the lady who sold me her house?"

>"Yes, that was her," Mrs. Norcott's face turns somber for the first time you've been there.

>Her husband doesn't seem too cheery either.

>"But I'm certain you'll be just as good a neighbor as she was," Mrs. Norcott lifts her expression to a weak smile.

>"Thank you."

>"So Anon, what are you doing for a living?" The husband asks in what you think is an attempt to move on from the subject.

>"I'm going to be working in the city for an advertisement agency. Stuff involving graphic design and even a little bit of website development."

>"In the city you say?"

>"Yeah."

>Mr. Norcott stares at you for a while, lightly nodding.

>"Watch your back in the city Anon. Things can get a little more...unruly out there," he says.

>You're unnerved slightly at his tone.

>"How so?"

>"Well...not the most friendly people live there."

>"Oh."

>The both of them aren't looking at you anymore, rather their eyes are fixed on their tea.

>They're sitting completely still.

>...

>Silence.

>...

>All of the sudden you don't want to be here anymore.

>You're unsure why, but you feel like you just need to get out of here.

>"Thanks again for the tea," you say as you stand.

>"I need to get going."

>Mrs. Norcott looks up at you, trying to offer another smile.

>"It was nice meeting you Anon."

>"You too. Have a good rest of your morning."

>They don't say anything more as you make your way to the door.

>You finally get a glance at the clock.

>It's past noon.

>

>The Norcotts live to the left of your house.

>After finishing your lunch you decided you'd would would introduce yourself to your neighbors to the right.

>You were a little hesitant about it after whatever that was at the Norcotts.

>You've been feeling uneasy since then.

>But you realized that you didn't have anything to do otherwise.

>Your newish laptop has been just about been your only source of entertainment.

>Might as well knock this out now.

>You get to your neighbors' front step and ring the doorbell.

>From inside you can hear the excited giggles of a child.

>Then a stern, female voice.

>You've actually seen the woman who lives here before, stepping outside to get her mail.

>You've also seen her with what you assume to be her husband.

>They were much younger than the Norcotts.

>The door opens, and you're face to face with the woman.

>"Hello?"

>She studies you, seemingly wondering if she's supposed to recognize who who you are.

>"Afternoon, I'm Anon. I just moved into the neighborhood, right next to you actually. I just wanted to introduce myself," you say.

>"Amy McHugh," she returns, smiling and extending her arm.

>You shake it.

>"Welcome to the neighborhood."

>She peers over to your house.

>Before either of you can say anything else, the child's voice calls out from inside.

>"Moooooom! Can I play outside?"

>"In a minute!" Amy calls back before turning to you again.

>"Saturdays are always a handful," she says smiling to herself.

>"I'll get out of your way then. Nice meeting you."

>"Have a good one," she waves as you leave.

>You give a small wave back.

>Only when he hear the door click shut do you breathe a sigh of relief.

>You were really glad she didn't invite you in

>You didn't want to spend a few hours in another Norcott situation.

>Giving a simple introduction was all you came to do.

>The question is what to do now.

>You have nothing left to unpack,

>You've introduced yourself to your next door neighbors,

>Work doesn't start till two days,

>Maybe you should explore the city a bit before it gets dark out. Find a good place to eat.

>Your stockpile of miscellaneous microwaveable foods got tiring long ago.

>But...

>You can't help but remember what Mr. Norcott said.

>Maybe on second thought, it'd be better if you stay home.

>...

>No. You aren't going to be avoiding the city.

>That's stupid. You're going to be working there soon.

>You're blowing implications way out of proportion for no apparent reason.

>If there really is going to be a problem, it'll be something you see for yourself.

>You head home to grab a jacket.

>

>The city sure was something else.

>The tall concrete towers were to be expected, but it was still jarring how quickly the suburbs turned urban.

>Your house's distance from work wasn't going to be a problem.

>The next jarring aspect was the sudden appearance of anthros.

>Mammals, reptiles, avians...

>You swear you saw some kind of praying mantis in the distance.

>Humans still made up the majority of the population.

>But this is still the most anthros in one place you've ever seen.

>In the past, you really only remembered seeing the occasional anthro at supermarkets or school.

>You don't think you've ever directly interacted with one.

>After a while you took notice that even though anthros were still a minority,

>They were a heavy majority of the homeless population.

>It became more and more evident as you traveled downtown.

>You're unsure what to make of it.

>You're also unsure if you should care.

>It's not like you haven't seen a homeless person before.

>You see even more anthros in the variety of shops and stores you pass.

>A few advertise products specifically tailored to certain types of anthros, particularly clothing stores.

>You make mental notes on places you might want to return to.

>For now you were looking for a place to eat.

>You spot a fast food joint at the corner of an intersection.

>Probably not the best this city had to offer, but you were looking for something cheap and quick.

>Pushing open the doors, you find the place is completely empty.

>Except for a wolf in uniform behind the counter.

>He's giving you a real funny look.

>Squinting as if he can't quite see you nine feet away.

>It makes you a little uncomfortable.

>You step inside, trying to look at the menu rather than him.

>They had a few different burger variations,

>A couple sandwiches,

>Plastic-looking salads...

>"Hey, humie. You new or what?"

>He almost startles you. Your eyes snap back down towards him.

>He's still giving you that look.

>"Huh?"

>"Humans don't usually come here."

>You don't know where he's going with this.

>How're you supposed to respond to that?

>"Do you not serve humans?" You guess. You hadn't thought of the possibility that some place might restrict which kind of people they serve.

>Were businesses allowed to do that?

>"No, we do. When they come here that is."

>Alright...? You're here aren't you?

>A few seconds of uncomfortable silence pass.

>You turn back to the menu realizing he's probably waiting for you to make your order.

>Maybe you'll try-

>"You didn't answer my question."

>"What?"

>"I said, are you new here?"

>You're a little taken aback.

>Maybe because it was the first time you've ever actually spoken to an anthro.

>Or possibly there was something about this wolf that told you he wants you out.

>"Yeah... Just got here last week."

>The wolf ponders this for a second, eyes still fixated on you.

>"The apartments across the street?"

>"No, I got a house in the surburbs nearby."

>"Hm." The wolf nods at that.

>"Figures. Why would a humie want to move in here? God knows-"

>He's interrupted as the entrance doors are forcibly opened by an older weasel man in the same uniform as the wolf.

>"Larry! Are you harassing my customers again?"

>The wolf, Larry apparently, finally breaks eye contact with you, giving fearful attention to the newcomer.

>"No boss!"

>"I know what I heard!"

>The weasel anthro turns to you for a second, giving a bashful smile.

>"My apologies sir, I assure you we have no qualms with humans. Please wait here."

>His expression performs a 180 as he faces Larry again.

>"Kitchen, now!"

>Larry grits his teeth as his boss steers him to the back of the building.

>Before they're completely out of sight, you catch Larry trying to whisper to the weasel's ear.

>"Come on man... I don't want to have to move back in with my parents...."

>You could tell that was louder than he wanted to sound.

>Now alone, you're left a little dumbstruck.

>You aren't sure you want to stay after that interaction.

>Leaving would probably seal the fate of that wolf's job.

>You also aren't sure if that's a good or bad thing.

>A new anthro emerges from the kitchen.

>Some kind of white-feathered bird.

>"I'll take your order when you're ready, sir," she speaks with recited politeness.

>"Uh, yeah. I'll take a number 3."

>You hadn't looked over the whole menu yet,

>But you didn't want to stay here longer than you needed to.

>You reach for your wallet, but the bird stops you.

>"No no, it's on the house. Would you like a drink with that?"

>Well that's nice.

>"Sure. Thanks."

>She offers you a cup.

>"Hey, uh, could I have my order to-go?"

>"Of course."

>She retreats back to the kitchen.

>

>You don't see Larry again.

>Just his boss handing you your order and apologizing on his behalf.

>You tell him you didn't mind.

>You were glad to get out of there.

>When you were waiting, two sheep anthros had walked in.

>They were giving you more curious looks.

>You think you understood why once you stepped outside.

>Only anthros seemed to have been entering and exiting the apartment complex Larry mentioned.

>Almost the same for the buildings around it.

>Apparently this part of town was more anthro-oriented.

>Dinner in hand, you begin your trip back home.

>

>Your burger is bland and mediocre.

>Typical of fast food, you guess.

>Still better than whatever you could throw into the microwave though.

>God you were getting sick of that stuff.

>You'd go grocery shopping if you had a car.

>Pretty sure you remember a dealership in the city's outer rim.

>But you weren't sure if you wanted to start facing car payments just yet.

>Too late to go there today anyway.

>Not that you wanted to go just after getting home.

>You put your trash into the to-go bag and throw it away.

>You can't stop thinking about how that wolf spoke to you.

>It shouldn't bother you so much, but it does for some reason.

>You try to preoccupy your mind with your laptop.

>You search for stores and dealerships near you for future reference, among other things.

>But it doesn't take long for you to get bored and turn it off.

>You think about calling your parents, but it's later than you thought.

>They'd be sleeping about now. You don't want to risk waking them up just cause you had nothing better to do.

>Someone else?

>...

>You can't think of anyone.

>You haven't talked to any of your close friends in years.

>Those ties just sort of deteriorated over time.

>You don't have their numbers anyway.

>...

>You've just noticed how quiet it is.

>Absolutely silent.

>No wind blowing,

>No insects chirping,

>No cars driving by,

>Nothing.

>You peer out the window.

>It's dark.

>No houses have their lights on, at least from where you're looking.

>It must be a new moon out as well.

>You sit back in your chair.

>And for a minute, that's the only thing you do.

>Alone with nothing to do in this big empty house.

>You wonder if this was how Mrs. Aberdeen felt.

***

>Sunday isn't too different.

>You spend most of the morning in bed.

>Only getting up once you were hungry for breakfast.

>Afterwords you bide your time by organizing the house.

>It doesn't take long, there's barely anything TO organize.

>You make sure the clothes you're going to wear to work tomorrow aren't dirty or crinkled.

>You're startled by the loud ringing of your phone.

>It really is too quiet here.

>You look at your phone.

>It's Mom.

>"Hey Mom."

>"Anon honey, how're you holding up?"

>"Fine, fine. Just getting ready for work tomorrow."

>"Ah, that's good. Any problems with the house?"

>"No, it's a really nice house. I really was lucky to get it so cheap."

>"You know, we were worried there'd be something wrong with that house with how cheap that lady was selling it for."

>"Well I haven't run into any problems with it so far. The neighbors seem friendly, and being so close to the city is a plus."

>She doesn't respond right away.

>"...You are being careful around the city, aren't you?"

>"Come on Mom. Stop worrying about it, I'll be fine. Tell that to Dad too."

>"We can't help it Anon. With so many anthros there..."

>You get an urge to change the subject.

>"So how are you and Dad doing? Is Dad there?"

>"Oh! Hold on."

>Her voice becomes distant.

>"Danny! Come take the phone, it's Anon!"

>You hear your dad call back something the receiver can't pick up entirely.

>Then some shuffling.

>"Anon! How'ya doing?"

>"Hey Dad. What've I been missing out on over there?"

>"Nothing interesting, that's for sure. Well, some idiot teenager almost rear-ended the car."

>"What? How fast was he going?"

>"Too fast on ice."

>"Ice? Did it snow over there?"

>"Friday night, yeah. Came down hard. I'm getting too old to shovel the driveway. Next time you're coming back down here and helping your old man out, I don't care how far away you live from us now."

>A joke, obviously. You live more than a day away from them.

>"Heh... Sure Dad."

>"But seriously, you oughta be prepared for cold weather over there. The weatherman keeps saying its gonna be a harsh winter."

>Then your mom's voice,

>"Anon, have you gotten a car yet? I know you're close enough to your job to walk, but I don't want you walking when it's so cold out."

>"Soon, I promise."

>"Are you running low on cash? If you want, we can-"

>"No, stop right there. I've barely spent a thing since I got here. I'm fine."

>"Are you sure?"

>"Yes."

>Your mom doesn't say anything to respond.

>...

>Your dad breaks the silence.

>"...Are you being careful around the city?"

>You love your parents, but they can really get overbearing at times.

>You can guess why.

>When you were young, your grandmother told you that your parents always talked about wanting a lot of children before you were born.

>She accidentally let slip to you that your parents were trying for more.

>You're an only child.

***

>You awaken to an alarm for the first time in a while,

>Take a shower,

>Get dressed,

>Eat breakfast,

>Grab a jacket,

>Step outside,

>And lock the door.

>Time for your first day at work.

>It's barely dawn out.

>A downside of walking to work means getting up even earlier than usual.

>The early morning suburbs are desolate.

>You don't see a sign of life until you get to the city.

>Mostly cars and the homeless.

>You arrive without any problems.

>Your branch is smaller than one would expect, especially for a well populated city.

>For an advertising agency, it ironically isn't very distinct.

>You push through the glass doors to find a human receptionist.

>You walk up to the desk.

>"Hello sir, can I help you?"

>"Hi, I'm Anon Mous. I just got a job here."

>"How is that spelled?"

>"M-O-U-S."

>"Just a second..."

>The receptionist types something into his computer and clicks on whatever his search yielded.

>"Yes, you'll need to head to the second floor. I'll phone the manager to meet you there."

>"Uh, Thanks." You give an awkward nod and turn to the elevator.

>Pressing the up button, you hear the receptionist dial a number in.

>"Ms. Ceight? Mr. Mous has arrived..."

>The elevator doors open.

>Ceight? That was one person you had sent your resume to for this job.

>"He'll be waiting on the second floor."

>If there's more to that conversation, you don't hear it. The elevator doors block out his voice when they close.

>You never actually had a face-to-face interview with your future employers. Not even any type of video chat. Just back and forth emails.

>The job was suspiciously easy to get now that you think about it.

>All you really needed to do was verify your qualifications.

>The elevator dings and the doors open.

>You step out into a short hallway.

>Distant voices and computer keys clacking can be heard from where you stand.

>Before you ask yourself if you should wait by the elevator or not, the problem answers itself.

>A tall woman appears from the end of the hallway.

>Very tall.

>As in, she's a giraffe.

>"Anon Mous?"

>"Y-Yeah, that's me."

>You walk over and shake her hand.

>"Rubia Ceight. Manager and Art Director of this branch."

>"Nice to meet you."

>You need to crane your neck to keep eye contact.

>She's wearing dark boardroom attire and a pair of thin, circular glasses.

>You release your grip.

>"Why don't you follow me?"

>Rubia leads you into an open office space.

>It's mostly what you expected.

>Rectangular desks and computers.

>There are already a few people strewn about, seemingly in groups.

>Among the multiple humans, you only spot a few anthros.

>Your and Rubia's arrival turn a few heads.

>"This is where you'll be doing most of your work. Your computer is over there, by McHugh, Morrison, and Kohlburry."

>McHugh?

>She gestures to a lone computer at the far edge of a table.

>There's a human male and female across from your monitor.

>Next to it, a doe lady.

>"They're working with a client about a new toy store in the area. They can help you get situated. I need to prepare for a meeting if that's not a problem."

>"No problem. Thank you, Ms. Ceight."

>You hold out your hand to shake hers again.

>Was that excessive?

>Regardless, she shakes it.

>"Welcome to the team, Anon." She gives you a warm smile.

>You do your best to give one back.

>When you let go, she retreats to a room with her name on the door.

>You turn to your desk.

>The three people are staring curiously at you.

>You clear your throat and walk over.

>Before you can introduce yourself, the man speaks.

>"You're Anon Mous, aren't you? Ceight told us to be ready to show you the ropes."

>The human woman speaks up.

>"I'm Jane Morrison."

>Then the doe.

>"Reita Kohlburry."

>And finally the man.

>"Gregory McHugh."

>"Is Amy your wife?"

>"Oh, do you know her?"

>"Not really, no. I just moved in next to you."

>"Really? What are the chances?"

>You shrug and take your seat next to the doe.

>She looks you over for a second, but says nothing.

>Greg and Jane do most of the explaining.

>

>The day is long, but it wasn't bad.

>You're taught the basic ins and outs of the functions for the company.

>Work is smooth, if not a little uneventful.

>It's late when you clock out.

>Greg offers you a ride home, but you politely refused.

>Perhaps that wasn't a good idea, as you find yourself walking in a fairly empty area of the city, alone and in the dark.

>Your paranoia prompts you to peer into every alleyway you pass.

>You have your wallet on you, with quite a bit of money.

>Empty...

>Empty...

>Empty...

>"Spare some change, sir?"

>You jump.

>An anthro, a wolf by the looks of it, holds out a grimy plastic cup.

>There's nothing in it.

>He's wearing a ripped up coat a size too small.

>Strangely, although the coat is torn, it looks...clean?

>"Please sir. My daughter and I need money."

>He gestures further into the alley.

>There's a little wolf girl sitting on a blanket, staring at you.

>She's in terrible shape.

>Her gray fur is all ruffled and pointed in every direction.

>It's stained, similarly to her long purple dress.

>It doesn't look like she's had a filling meal in forever.

>She doesn't even have a coat like her father.

>She looks absolutely miserable staring blankly at you.

>You turn your attention back to the father.

>You don't entirely know how to respond to this...

>But you're not going to deny them money. The girl looks no older than eleven.

>"Uh...yeah, here."

>You reach for your wallet, and sift through your bills.

>As you do, you notice the father is now avoiding your gaze.

>He looks familiar...

>He sounded familiar too, actually...

>You focus on him instead of the bills.

>"...Larry?"

>He flinches.

>"Who's that?"

>He's trying to make his voice sound deeper.

>Something's up.

>You tuck your wallet back into your pocket.

>"Hey, you mentioned something about moving back with your parents, didn't you?"

>He doesn't respond.

>"You don't need this money, do you?"

>Larry turns his back to you, facing the young wolf.

>In an assertive, almost hostile voice,

>"Get off."

>She scrambles off the blanket.

>Larry peels it up, revealing a cheap looking tote bag.

>Slowly, he lifts it up to himself and peers in.

>You notice the girl is also a little unnerved at whatever is happening.

>It looks like she wants to ask him something, but can't quite get the courage to do so.

>Larry keeps the opening of the bag folded shut with his hands.

>He looks at you for a second.

>And fucking books it out of there, pushing you aside so hard you nearly fall over.

>Trying to regain your balance before you get a face full of concrete, you hear the wolf girl speak for the first time.

>"H-Hey! Mister! Come back!"

>She tries running after him, but only makes it one step before tripping over the discarded blanket.

>She probably scraped something.

>By an instinct you weren't aware you had, you hurry over to help her sit up.

>"Hey, are you okay?"

>Obviously not, but it's all you can think to say.

>She sniffles.

>Her eyes are wet with tears.

>She stares at the ground.

>"That man. Is he really your dad?"

>She shakes her head.

>It looks like she's hesitant to speak.

>"H-He said we'd get m-more money if we pretended he was... B-but he took it all..."

>You know all of this is absolutely none of your business, nor should you be involved, but you can't help yourself.

>She looks so helpless.

>"Where is your dad?"

>She gives a weak shrug.

>"Your mom?"

>Another shrug.

>"...Who takes care of you?"

>"...Nobody."

>Another sniffle.

>"What? Have you been to a foster center?"

>"They don't have enough money anymore."

>"Why weren't you moved to a new one?"

>"...Humans only."

>She's trying hard to fight back tears.

>It's not working.

>You don't know what to say.

>This homeless child is living by herself in the city...

>Then the realization finally hits you.

>What the hell are you doing?

>A grown man,

>Talking to a little girl,

>Obviously not related,

>Alone in an alleyway.

>You can't stay here. You're lucky nobody's passed by the two of you yet.

>...

>But you can't just leave her like this.

>You take off your jacket and place it over her back.

>She freezes at this.

>You bring out your wallet again, and pull out a few twenties.

>Her eyes widen at the amount of money you're offering her.

>You're surprised she can see the value of the bills through her tears.

>She grips it with a shaking hand.

>"Keep that money hidden, alright? It's only for you."

>She's still in awe, but nods.

>Time to get out of here before someone mistakes you for a predator.

>You stand up and take your leave.

>You can't help but feel you should have done more.

>You were overcome with some emotion you aren't familiar with.

>Pity? No, it was more than that.

>Before you're out of hearing distance, she whispers something.

>"Thank you."

>

>You step into your house, relieved to finally get out of the cold.

>What a difference one jacket can make.

>You hope it's helping that wolf girl.

>She has fur too, but can it really block out weather this cold?

>You can't stop thinking about her.

>She's just a little girl...

>No relatives to help guide and protect her from whatever homelessness has in store for her.

>It's out of your control though.

>What could you even do? Take her to your place?

>Hope you don't mind moving to a prison cell and having your reputation ruined forever.

>Creep.

>You kick off your shoes and scan the pantry for something to eat.

>But...

>What if there ARE creeps out there? Ones who'd...

>No.

>No, you're not going to think about that.

>This isn't your problem.

>You shouldn't be thinking about the "what if"s, you should be moving on.

>There's nothing you can do.

>You can't just take her in.

>"No officer, I brought her to my house so she could be SAFE from those kinds of people! Please believe me!"

>It's not like you're equipped to take care of her anyway.

>You find a can of soup.

>It's tomato.

>You get out a pot to heat it up in.

>Placing it on a burner, you stare at the red paste as it begins to heat up.

>...

>She trusted Larry, a complete stranger to her.

>He never intended to hurt her.

>But what if it was someone else?

>...

>The soup starts to bubble, so you stir it a little.

>...

>That money you gave her...

>Is it going to help her?

>Or is it just putting a target on her back?

>Obviously there are other homeless out there, people with incentive to steal it from her.

>Maybe with force.

>Who's to say they'll hold back just because she's a kid?

>If anything, that-

>No, stop thinking about it.

>This isn't your problem.

>Child Protective Services or something will find and help her.

>...

>Then why hasn't that already happened?

>She was at a foster center before. Where were they there when it went broke?

>Your soup's done.

>You turn off the burner and grab a bowl.

>She's still out on the streets.

>And it looked like she'd been there for a while.

>With the sheer number of people who live in the city, you can't deny some of them could be dangerous.

>You fear that one day you'll peer into an alleyway, and find her...

>You shiver.

>You look at your tomato soup,

>And dump it.

>You've lost your appetite.

>You decide to just go to bed.

>Unsurprisingly, sleep doesn't come easy.

***

>The alarm sounds much more obnoxious today than yesterday.

>Probably because it took hours for you to actually fall asleep.

>Why was that again?

>...

>Oh yeah. Her.

>Great, now she's going to be stuck on your mind again.

>You get out of bed and prepare to take a shower.

>Unfortunately, said shower not only wakes you up, but amplifies your worries.

>Where did she go to sleep?

>Could she have gotten hurt during the night?

>Does she still have the money you gave her?

>You try your best to push them out of your head, but your thoughts always loop back around.

>Regardless, you aren't going to be late for work.

>You make yourself a quick breakfast and brush your teeth.

>You have a spare jacket your mother insisted you take.

>Apparently she was right, you do need it now that you gave away your old one.

>You slip it on and step outside.

>It's gotten colder out.

>The wind chill certainly isn't helping.

>But you begin on your route to work just like yesterday.

>You can't help but keep your eyes peeled for the wolf girl.

>You really want some sort of confirmation that she's okay.

>No luck though, by the time you get to the agency you still hadn't seen her.

>The receptionist is at the desk once again.

>He checks you in, and you head toward the elevator.

>Time for day number two of your job.

>

>"Oh, I forgot to ask. Anon," Greg peers over his computer.

>You're pulled out of your thoughts when you hear your name.

>Was he talking before?

>"Did you make it home okay?"

>"Huh? Oh, yeah."

>Greg opens his mouth to speak again, but instead eyes Reita for a second.

>Whatever he was going to say, he decided against it.

>Jane speaks instead.

>"Must've gotten cold out there."

>"A little, yeah. It wasn't really a problem."

>"It could be today. Did you check the weather?"

>"No. What does it say?"

>"Snowstorm's moving in sometime soon."

>For some reason your stomach drops when you hear that.

>You can brave the cold from the distance to your house, so why did that make you so uneasy.

>"What? When?"

>"Sometime late tonight apparently. Ceight will probably send us home an hour early anyway though, just so we can start driving before the snow piles up."

>That's fine then. You'll probably be home before it even starts.

>So why do you still feel so nervous?

>It doesn't take you long to realize.

>She's still out there.

>She's going to freeze.

>No, you don't know that for sure.

>Stop worrying.

>That's not your business, nor is it your duty to do anything about it.

>She'll find someplace to stay.

>Someone else will help her.

>But what if they take advantage of her trust?

>What if they...

>Stop.

>You're doing it again.

>There's nothing you can reasonably-

>"Anon? Hello?"

>Your thoughts are interrupted once more.

>Your eyes shift to Jane.

>She looks a little concerned.

>Actually, so does Greg and Reita.

>"You look a little out of it," Jane says.

>You blink.

>"It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

>You don't sound very convincing, but they don't press.

>Instead the three of you somewhat awkwardly place your attention back to work.

>Or at least, they did.

>You tried to, but the miserable image of that wolf girl in your memory makes it hard.

>Why can't you just move on with your life?

>No matter how many times you tell yourself you aren't responsible for whatever could happen to her, your subconscious ignores it.

>You give it some thought.

>You're so concerned about that wolf, yet you never learned her name.

>With that in mind, what would you think if you learned she died out there?

>...

>It'd never leave your conscious, would it?

>That realization terrifies you.

>You could have done something.

>But you didn't.

>She would still be alive if you didn't turn your head and look the other way.

>She was so young.

>You can't undue death.

>It's your fault.

>You didn't help her.

>It's all your fault.

>All. Your. Fault.

>...

>You don't want to live with that regret.

>You know yourself. Even if it's not really your fault, it's going to feel like it is for a long time.

>Quite possibly for the rest of your life.

>Although ill advised, you still have time to do something about the situation.

>Find and take her to your house.

>Unfortunately, said solution will give people the wrong idea.

>VERY wrong ideas.

>It'd have to be a secret.

>Which makes you seem even more like a creep...

>Why are you even beginning to consider going through with this?

>And why can't you stop?

>You must have inhaled some bad fumes in the city or something, because right now a decision that could easily ruin your life is starting to win you over.

>No matter how good your intentions, consequences will hit just as hard.

>But on the other hand...

>How much longer can she survive on the street?

>She's so young, with nobody to rely on.

>Maybe not today, but eventually...

>She will die out there.

>Your monitor shuts off from inactivity.

>You stare at yourself in the reflection.

>It looks so tired, like all it wants is to sleep off a bad day.

>Just like her.

>You can't believe what you're thinking, but...

>You're going to help her.

***

>Just like Jane predicted, Rubia allowed the office the leave early if anyone thought the snowfall would become a problem driving home.

>You hoped it didn't look unprofessional with how fast you got out of there, but you were in a hurry.

>You spent your entire lunch break today finding a place to rent a car and working out the details.

>Found a place within walking distance and called them ahead of time.

>Although hastily, you managed to reserve a car for yourself.

>The walk there was uneventful, but those puffy clouds rolling in were much more ominous than they had any right to be.

>Getting the car wasn't hard.

>After showing your license and an upfront payment, it's yours for a week.

>Small and slim with a black paint job.

>That's as discrete as a rental car can be, right?

>As you start the car, you try to think of the most likely places you could possibly find her in the city.

>There's that one row of alleyways you saw her at. And...

>...

>Shit. This part is going to be more tedious than you anticipated.

>In retrospect, you should have expected that finding one particular stranger somewhere in a city with almost nothing to go off of would be time consuming.

>With a low success rate too.

>If you don't end up finding her, you'll have wasted money for the car as well as a whole lot of your time.

>You question why such obvious deterrents were only brought to your attention now.

>The only answer you can come up with was that you were too worried to think logically when you made this decision.

>Whatever the reason, you aren't going to get a refund.

>You lift the parking break and begin your search.

>

>The longer you drive, the more you realize what a bad idea this is.

>And you've been driving for a while.

>Snow's been falling moderately hard, and apparently it's only supposed to get worse.

>You can't tell if the sun has set yet over the thick canvas of clouds.

>You're just wasting your time.

>Maybe it's for the better if you don't find her.

>What would your parents think if you were caught?

>You'd no doubt lose your job, and struggle to find any other decent one.

>If you go to prison, you won't be able to pay your mortgage and bills on time.

>If not, your neighbors will make certain that you move away anyway, especially since the McHughs have a kid.

>You really don't know what'll happen, but it won't be good.

>It's so easy to turn the car around and drive home.

>In theory at least.

>No matter what you think, it feels as though your brain is detached from your body, because you never make any sort of effort to commit giving up the search.

>So for now, part of you hopes you don't find her.

>But the other doesn't want to imagine her suffering out there.

>Or dead.

>

>You've noticed there's a lot less traffic in anthro-populated areas.

>Less people in general even.

>There was absolutely nobody around the backstreet you were cruising in.

>Not from your point of view at least.

>Just trash, bottles, and chain link fences at the backs of faded, unlabeled buildings.

>Not exactly a place you want to spend a lot of time at alone.

>Your brain tells you to leave and go home again.

>Sounds just as tempting as the last ten times, but like before, your better judgement is ignored.

>You haven't been feeling like yourself these past 24 hours. You've never tried anything close to this before.

>It's not hard to imagine what kinds of miscreants lurk these corners, and how they could place your life in danger in the blink of an eye.

>And yet you're still here.

>Maybe at this point you're just too tired to completely process the situation well.

>It feels like you've been on autopilot for a while.

>All this time looking though shadows and snow is really taking its toll.

>You imagine how good it would feel to just be in your warm bed as the snow builds up.

>You don't remember your mattress being anything special, but if it didn't sound appealing right now...

>The coincidental sight of a ragged blanket behind a fence puts a stop to your thoughts that would have caused you to completely overlook the whole area.

>Mentally, you remark how fitting the blanket is in relation to your daydreaming.

>You almost turn your head and give it no second thought...

>But there was something about that blanket.

>...

>Wasn't that the same one Larry used to hide the money?

>The one the little girl tripped over?

>It looks similar, at least from what you can remember.

>Something stirs underneath it.

>A little gray snout, and a pair of glossy eyes, peek out from the cloth.

>Oh shit.

>It's actually her.

>You actually found her.

>You're immensely relieved and terrified at the same time.

>On one hand, you now know she's okay.

>On the other, you have to go through with your plan.

>It's hard to see in the dark, but you can tell she's watching you from the other side of the fence.

>You put the car into park and turn off the lights.

>This probably looks sketchy as fuck right now.

>You roll down the passenger side window so she can see you better, and you gesture for her to come over.

>Scratch "probably", this could not look any more misleading.

>Although you try to keep a calm resolve, your heart is thudding rapidly in your chest.

>If anybody sees this, you're done for.

>She stares at you, unmoving.

>You actually thought that would work? Of course she wouldn't approach some random stranger in their car at night, especially when there's nobody else arou-

>The wolf stands up, draping the blanket over her shoulder.

>Very cautiously, she trudges through the snow and approaches the fence.

>There's no way...

>Despite every possible red flag presented to her, she ducks down and crawls under an opening shredded at the bottom of the fence to get to you.

>Thank god that you found her before anyone with less savory ideas.

>Suddenly you feel a bit more assured about what you're doing.

>She stands at the side of your car, peering in at you through the open window.

>She's wearing a puffy white coat with the tag still on.

>Her curious but miserable eyes lock with yours.

>She stands still with an awkward silence.

>"Hey, uh, why don't you get in? Just for a second."

>You hate how much of a creep you must sound.

>It takes her a second to place her attention on the door handle.

>It almost seems like she's worried she could break it with how softly she pulled on it.

>She scooches in the seat and gently closes the door, almost failing to click it shut.

>You don't like how easy that was.

>She's completely silent.

>You're still very nervous that this is actually happening, and you struggle to think of what to say.

>With how bad this looks, you need to set something straight.

>"So... Before I get to it, I want you to understand that if at any point you feel at all threatened or uncomfortable, you can get out and leave. Alright?"

>The expression she gives you is only that of confusion, like she doesn't grasp the possible implications at all.

>Maybe you really are doing the right thing...

>"Er... What's your name? I'm Anon."

>She stares at her folded hands in her lap.

>"Sophia," her voice is subtle and timid.

>Now for the next part... How exactly to you ask if she'll be okay with you taking her in?

>As you plan it out, she speaks again.

>"Thank you for helping me, I haven't spent all of the money, if you want it back...."

>"No no, that's fine. I see you bought a new coat with some of it. Did you know it was going to snow?" Maybe breaking the ice a bit first would be a good idea?

>"No, I just don't like being cold...."

>You feel your heart sink a little.

>She turns her eyes to you for a second before focusing back at her lap.

>Having a limited experience with anthros, it's sometimes hard to read their facial expressions.

>At first you thought she appeared worryingly apathetic, like she's been used to living like this for a long time.

>But looking closer, you now find traces of nervousness and haggard depression.

>You clear your throat.

>"Do you have anybody that takes care of you? After the foster center was shut down?"

>She shakes her head.

>"N-No."

>You almost don't notice her eyes beginning to water.

>Fuck, maybe now's the time to pop the question.

>Here goes nothing.

>"Sophia, listen. If you're okay with it, I can take care of you. Is that something you'd want?"

>She jolts a bit in her seat, and her eyes widen. Her attention shifts completely to you.

>"W... What?"

>"Only if you want to. I'll give you food and shelter, but you can leave whenever you want. I can't promise that I'll be an exceptional host, but I try my best. I know you hardly know me, but if there's nobody else who can take care of you...."

>You trail off. Listing off what could happen to her... You don't want to scare her into making a decision. It needs to be her own.

>Sophia stares at you, wordless. But eventually, she speaks.

>"I don't understand."

>"Huh?"

>"Why... Wh...."

>She's shaking in her seat.

>"...Why would you want to help me?"

>Her tone sounds guilty, almost shameful. Her ears flatten against her head.

>"Well, you're too young to be living out there. Especially when it's not your fault you have nowhere to go."

>She turns away from you again.

>"...I don't want to bother you."

>Bothering you? Is that really her main concern?

>"You won't, I promise."

>Can you really? You know her about as much as she knows you.

>The wolf stays silent. You can't see her face turned away from you.

>"I only want to help if you're okay with it. If you're uncomfortable with the idea, you can leave. I won't stop you."

>More silence.

>"You can take your time."

>You're surprised how well composed you've been so far. Sophia's decision isn't only going to impact her.

>If she doesn't want your help, things will go back to normal... Hopefully. You can't feel guilty if she herself refused your aid, right?

>And if she does decide to go with you...

>You'd be taking on a whole lot of risk and responsibility.

>Not only will you be taking care of a child, something you've only partially done in babysitting, you're fairly certain that this is illegal.

>Why you're so intent on doing this then, you still aren't sure.

>To get her off the streets, obviously. But resorting to this? What's gotten into you?

>You look out into the dark street, your heartbeat beginning to pick up again in paranoia.

>"You mean it?"

>You nearly dent the roof of the car as you jump in your seat. Luckily Sophia didn't notice, still looking away from you.

>"You don't think I'll be a burden?"

>"Not at all," the quickness and confidence of your reply surprises you.

>But maybe that assurance was just what she needed.

>"...Okay," while still meek, her voice sounds a bit less fearful.

>"You'll go with me?"

>"If it's alright...."

>Well, there's your answer.

>Illegal babysitting, here you come.

>"Okay then, I'll take you to my place. Remember, you can change your mind at anytime."

>She gives a gentle nod of acknowledgment.

>"Go ahead and put in your seatbelt and we'll get going."

>Lifting the parking break, you notice Sophia struggling to locate the belt in the corner of your eye.

>"Here, I got it," you say as you reach over the wolf and, as delicately as you can, buckle her into the seat.

>Her ears flatten to her head again.

>"I-I'm sorry," the shame of her voice has returned, "I didn't know what you meant, I've never ridden in a car before... I'm sorry...."

>Her expression falls even more so to embarrassment and fear, although it's a little hard to see when she ducks her head down like that.

>"I'm sorry for being annoying...."

>Annoying? Because she didn't know what a seatbelt was?

>She's actually trembling in her seat. The sight it gives you the impulse to remedy it.

>So... How do you go about it?

>You get an idea, although you're worried how she might react to it.

>After awkwardly hovering your hand over her shoulder for a second, you gently lay it down.

>She flinches at the touch, immediately turning to you.

>It's unnerving how tiny her pupils shrank.

>Your words are spoken wholeheartedly.

>"You're not annoying. It's not your fault this is new to you," you try your damnedest to look reassuring. The terror in her eyes scares you as well.

>Luckily though, you seem to have had an effect.

>Sophia's trembling wavers and her pupils begin to dilate back to their normal size.

>You lift your hand and put it back on the wheel.

>She's calming down.

>Giving you a weak nod, she adjusts herself to sit up straight in her seat.

>That... Actually kinda worked.

>You actually feel really good about that. You haven't felt pride like this in a long time.

>Okay, calm down now. You didn't cure cancer.

>Right now you need to get out of here before anyone shows up.

>You realize that driving back, having Sophia next to you would look conspicuous.

>The blanket she brought in with her rests at her feet. Maybe you could cover her up with it?

>No. You want to look like you're smuggling a corpse? Plus you don't think Sophia would appreciate it very much.

>Instead, you drape it over her lap. She doesn't say anything as you do.

>"Hey... Sophia? Could you do me a favor and put your hood up?"

>She complies almost immediately. Wordless, but with another nod.

>Perfect. As long as she sat like that, blankly staring at the glove compartment, just about no one would be able to tell that she was an anthro.

>At last, you turn your on lights and step off the brake.

>You've succeeded in finding Sophia and can now bring her home to safety.

>Only now you're terrified about what could happen to you.

***

>At last, you make it to your driveway.

>Your chest feels ready to burst. Simply seeing Sophia looking out the window in the corner of your eye was enough to mortify you.

>What an idiot you are for doing this.

>Luckily, nobody seemed to notice the difference in species.

>Doesn't stop you form being on edge. For Sophia's sake, you keep your fear internal.

>You ask if she could stay in the car once you realized the only way to open the garage was from the inside.

>Again, she only gives a small nod in response.

>As quick as you can, you unlock the front door and hurry to open the garage.

>You swiftly pull in, shutting off the car and closing the garage door.

>Once it's shut, you breathe a sigh of relief.

>Again, why the hell have you come this far? Or considered it in the first place?

>Even if you manage never to get caught, you don't think your heart can take much more of this.

>You know you shouldn't be doing this, no matter how moral it sounded on paper.

>But mentally you know you'd blame yourself for whatever happened if you didn't go looking for her.

>There really was no winning choice, was there? You're fucked either way.

>You take a deep breath.

>Any sort of relaxation is welcome. Hopefully clear your head a bit.

>...

>Wait.

>Sophia's still in the car.

>She hasn't moved from her seat, just sitting patiently.

>Watching you.

>You gesture for her to get out.

>She notices, and begins tugging on her seatbelt, apparently not realizing she needs to press the button to click it off.

>Oh boy.

>Well, you can't really blame her. She's never been in a car before.

>Honestly it's a little cute.

>You walk around the car to the passenger side seat to help.

>It surprises you when the door suddenly bursts open just before you get there, and Sophia tumbles out. The blanket spills onto the floor.

>"Woah-! You okay?" You ask as you run over and help her regain her balance.

>She nearly fell onto her back before you helped reorient her. Despite this, she nods profusely, albeit avoiding your gaze.

>The fur on her face seems to have shifted a shade pinker.

>You peer into the car.

>The seatbelt is still buckled in. She must've weaseled her way through the straps.

>You turn back to her, and kneel to get eye level with her... Even though she's avoiding eye contact.

>You barely notice her slight tremoring through her puffy jacket.

>"Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?" You try, calm yet concerned.

>Her eyes dart to you, but only for a second before they retreat. Her trembling appears to fade away.

>A quick head shake tells you "no".

>"...Are you sure?"

>A quick nod.

>Neither of you say anything for a while. You aren't sure whether you should press it or not. It looks like a small amount of her fur snagged on the belt and was pulled off.

>Or is it just shedding? Something similar?

>You really need to learn more about anthros if you're to continue this plan.

>Standing up, you simply press on the seat belt's release and shut the door.

>When you look back at her, you notice she looks even more flustered than before. Probably embarrassed.

>You try giving her a gentle smile.

>"Come on. Let's go inside."

>"...Okay."

>You pick up the blanket before you start heading inside.

>As you lead her around the car, you notice that she's both trying to keep pace with you and stay at a distance.

>She can't decide how close she wants to get to you.

>You keep your friendly demeanor in hopes to make her more comfortable.

>It feels strangely forced and genuine at the same time.

>What is wrong with you and these indescribable feelings? Some sort of side effect of the anxiety?

>All in all, this just feels so...weird. You can be certain about that at least.

>You hold open the door for Sophia, who eyes you cautiously.

>In soft trudges, she moves past you and into the laundry room. You step in after her and set the blanket on top of the washing machine.

>You notice one again just how unkempt her gray fur is.

>She makes it about three feet before stopping and looking back at you.

>You close the door and unzip your jacket, hanging it on a mounted hook on the wall.

>"You wanna take your jacket off?"

>She looks down at her coat. While you get no verbal response, she unzips it and shakes it off into her arms.

>You see she was wearing your old jacket underneath.

>She's much hastier to get that one off, only this time she walks over to hand you it.

>She's still wearing her long and raggedy purple dress.

>"Thank you...for the jacket. I tried not to get it dirty."

>From what you can tell, it looks exactly like it did when you gave it to her. Well, minus the fur.

>"It looks just fine. Here, I'll hang up your coat too," you extend a hand to her.

>With a slight hesitation, she drapes her puffy coat on your arm.

>You can't help but smirk a little at how carefully she did so.

>"You can kick off your shoes and leave them right there," you point to two pairs of shoes tucked in the corner of the room.

>Taking off your current pair and hanging up the jackets, you notice Sophia isn't moving.

>She looks a bit befuddled.

>Any remanence of your smirk fades as you piece together what this means.

>"Do you...not have any?"

>"...No."

>"..."

>You really can't find it in you to respond to that.

>This child has been roaming the streets for days without a pair of shoes.

>Rough concrete, trash, pebbles, shards of glass...

>"You... Have you gotten cut because of that?"

>She shakes her head.

>You're slightly relieved at this. Hopefully, this means you won't have to deal with any sort of possible infections.

>But still, just because she got lucky like that doesn't mean it was a pleasant aspect of her life on the streets.

>You take a good look at her.

>Ruffled hair, ragged dress, tired eyes...

>Her presence greatly contrasted with the tidiness of your new house. Hell, it wasn't even very organized at that.

>She's just a kid. She didn't deserve the whatever circumstances happened to make you feel it was necessary to intervene.

>Regardless, she's here and is your responsibility. Hopefully you can make her life a little less shit.

>Lets start with the obvious.

>"Are you hungry?"

>Sophia ponders your question for longer than you'd expect, apparently having some sort of mental debate to what should be a simple answer.

>"Mm-hm," you almost couldn't hear her response.

>"Have anything in mind? Do you like soup?"

>"Anything is fine," you could've swore you heard traces of guilt from that.

>Either way, you make your way to the pantry and look for some more soup.

>You find another can of tomato. That'll be okay for a wolf, right?

>As you bring out the can, you notice Sophia isn't in the kitchen.

>After a brief search, you find her still standing in the laundry room, watching you.

>You motion for her to come into the kitchen.

>She does so immediately, only to plant herself just past the threshold of the kitchen.

>You keep her in the corner of your eye as you heat up the burner.

>She doesn't move an inch, attentively watching as you dump the soup in a pot and place it onto the burner.

>More awkward silence ensues as you wait for the soup to heat up.

>You clear your throat.

>"So, uh, do you wanna take a seat?" You ask.

>"...Do you want me to?"

>"Do you want to?"

>The two of you share a tone of uneasy uncertainty. Apparently, neither of you completely grasped the other's respective question.

>Bubbling soup fills in the silence.

>"...There's a few chairs at the table. Go ahead and sit down," you say after a few seconds of mindlessly staring at each other.

>"Okay," her response is more concrete this time, and she doesn't hesitate to sit at the table.

>Sophia doesn't say anything as you stir the soup.

>You want to break the silence, but for whatever reason can't muster up something to say.

>So you stay quiet as well.

>...

>Once you feel that the soup is ready, your pour it into a bowl and grab a spoon.

>You notice that Sophia's focus has shifted from you to the bowl.

>Actually, she seems to switch between the two.

>You place the bowl in front of her, and the spoon next to the bowl.

>Her hand immediately reaches for the spoon, but she stops herself.

>She looks you right in the eyes.

>"Thank you...."

>And, with more finesse this time, takes the spoon.

>You walk over and have a seat directly across from her while she attacks her meal.

>She recoils a bit from the heat from the first sip, but it doesn't slow her down.

>You're about to suggest waiting until it cools, but something about her stops you.

>It's so desperate...

>You wait until she's finished, which doesn't take very long.

>After she finishes the last of it, her attention reverts immediately back to you.

>"Thank you...." she mumbles once again.

>"You're very welcome."

>You smile at her, getting up and taking the bowl and spoon from her.

>You rinse them in the sink and leave them there.

>Sophia sits in the chair, silent and seeming expectant of you to do or say something.

>You look at her for a bit.

>She undeniably appears tired. You suppose you did just find her late at night.

>You don't have a guest bed, but there is the couch in the living room.

>There's some spare blankets somewhere in your room, you're pretty sure.

>Standing up, you head to the living room.

>Closing the blinds is probably a good idea. The sun won't shine on her face in the morning, and more importantly, it'll decrease the chance someone sees an anthro in a human neighborhood.

>Again, you get a slight feeling of nausea as you imagine what could happen if someone finds out...

>You take a deep breath in before heading back to the kitchen.

>Sophia hasn't moved, eyes on you just as always.

>"Are you tired?" You ask.

>As expected, she affirms with a weak nod.

>"Come over here."

>You turn back, and she follows you to the couch. You rest your hand on it.

>"You can sleep on this for the night," you state simply. Tiredness is beginning to override your anxiety.

>"I-I can?"

>"Yeah... You can."

>Her eyes, usually droopy, stare widely at the couch.

>"Are you sure?"

>"...Yeah."

>Sophia takes a step closer, only to step back again.

>"M-My fur could make a mess."

>"It won't. It'll be fine."

>"...Okay."

>At last, she moves in front of the couch. Very delicately, she sits in the center, and slowly leans onto her side so that her head lies on the armrest.

>You realize she still doesn't have any blankets or pillows.

>"I'll be right back," you tell her.

>"Okay."

>You leave her for a moment to head to your room, grabbing two spare blankets and a pillow and bringing them back to the living room.

>Sophia watches as you place them on the floor by the couch.

>"You can use these for now. At least until I can, er, work out something better," you say.

>She doesn't respond, at least not verbally. Subtle nods indicate she's listening.

>She hasn't reached for the pillow or blankets yet. Should you...tuck her in?

>...

>"Ahem," you clear your throat. "If you need me, I'll be in my room upstairs. I'll keep the door open... And don't be afraid to wake me up."

>You step away from her and to the light switch.

>"Uh, goodnight."

>You flick off the lights and begin to make your way upstairs.

>Before she's out of earshot, you hear her say something.

>"...Goodnight."

>Once you've navigated through the darkness and into your room, you collapse onto your bed.

>All your energy had seemed to just drain away within those past few minutes.

>Once again, your conscious reminds you that you are actually going through with this.

>And that you're probably going to pay for it.

>Really going to pay for it...

***

>Last night wasn't too great.

>You were up so late looking for Sophia, yet no matter how heavy your eyelids felt, you couldn't for the life of you drift to sleep.

>You've really grown to hate your alarm.

>At least it wasn't as loud this time. Don't want to startle Sophia.

>Getting up, you start your morning routine, same as usual.

>Showering, putting on work clothes, all that.

>Once you've gotten downstairs, you take a peek into the dark living room.

>Looks like she put on the blankets. You can just barely see her head and ears poke out.

>Asleep probably. It's still very early in the morning.

>You leave her be for now. Instead you make your way to the kitchen for breakfast.

>You find some really bland cereal you didn't know you had. That'll be something new.

>Grabbing a bowl and some milk, breakfast is prepared within seconds.

>It doesn't take much longer to eat.

>Instead of putting the cereal box away, you leave it and a new bowl on the counter for Sophia later.

>Speaking of which, checking on her would be a good idea.

>Back at the living room, you find her still asleep.

>You think about waking her up so you can tell her you'll be gone at work for a while, but then realize you could leave a note instead.

>Now you don't have to disturb her slumber. You're a genius.

>It doesn't take long to find a pen and a sheet of paper.

>"Sophia, I'll be at work for a few hours, but I'll be back during my lunch break. There's some cereal you can have in the kitchen and some milk in the fridge. Don't go outside, and stay away from the windows."

>After some thought, you add...

>"Please."

>You leave the note on the table next to the couch.

>It makes you a little--no, very nervous leaving her in your house without your supervision, but you were the one who decided to do this.

>You hope that somehow, in the end, everything will turn out alright.

>Maybe you could find her a good family?

>Maybe her real family is still out there somewhere.

>You'll have to think about this later. For now, you quietly make your way to the garage.

>Maybe work can distract you from this.

>

>"Hey... Hey Anon. You seem a little distracted," Jane says from across the table.

>You blink.

>"I'm fine."

>She gives a weak shrug.

>"Well, if you say so," Jane puts her attention back to her monitor.

>Just like yesterday, you're finding it hard to focus on your work.

>Except instead of worrying about what kind of trouble Sophia could get into alone in the city, you're worried about the trouble that both of you could get into if she's found in your house.

>You told her she could leave anytime, so should you have specified that you needed to be there to escort her? Someone could see her step right outside your front door.

>It doesn't help you live in an entirely human populated neighborhood.

>You did tell her not to go outside on the note.

>...Did you?

>Why do you need to be second guessing yourself?

>There's no way you didn't write that on the note.

>Most likely.

>Will she even see the note? Did you put in a good spot?

>What if she-

>"Anon?"

>"Y-Yeah?" You look up.

>Jane, Greg and Reita all stare at you.

>"Planning on working at all today?" Greg asks.

>You're too unfocused and tired to tell if that was asked jokingly or sarcastically.

>"Sorry guys, just thinking of some problems back at home."

>"Problems?"

>"Yeah, uh... Family problems..."

>Sure, let's go with that.

>"Oh, sorry. I hope you get that figured out then," Greg turns his head away from you.

>You try to be more cooperative from then on.

>

>You hurry out for your lunch break, wanting time to buy a few necessities for Sophia.

>After some driving, you eye a general store that heavily advertises "Quality Items for Both Humans AND Anthros!"

>You step inside to find it completely empty, bar one apathetic-looking lizard anthro reading a newspaper behind a counter.

>Iguana? Newt? You honestly have no idea.

>Whatever he is, he doesn't pay you much attention.

>You try to do the same as you pass through what's essentially one large room crammed with shelves of miscellaneous items.

>Though, it is at least organized.

>You stumble into a section full of hair products.

>You're surprised to find many different types of shampoo and conditioner specifically for anthros. They come in bigger bottles than the ones for humans too.

>You grab some bottles conveniently labeled "Canine".

>Next, clothes that aren't stained and torn up should be a good idea.

>As you approach a clothing rack, you realize that you're very uncertain about the size you should be getting.

>Does the fact she's an anthro factor into what dimensions she needs? Does she need more room for her fur to breath?

>To be safe, you'll get her another dress, and one size bigger than your current estimate.

>Hopefully she won't be tripping over it.

>Almost every single article of clothing has a unique color or design, not dissimilar to a bargain bin.

>You find only one of the size you're looking for.

>Its white on the top, and orange with white polka dots on the actual dress.

>She's going to look like a carton of orange juice, but you don't think she'll mind too much. It's not in horrible condition.

>This'll be good for now. Might as well save some time to talk with her and not need to rush back to work.

>As you approach the lizard, you notice a mini freezer with pints of ice cream on the counter.

>It's very limited in its the amount of flavors. You grab a vanilla flavored one.

>Hopefully Sophia will like it.

>You bring everything up to the lizard man.

>He inspects the price tag on the dress first.

>"You got a daughter?"

>You're heart skips a beat at the realization that you'll need to lie about why you're getting it. But the panic is short lived, since you also realize he gave you the perfect excuse.

>"Yeah... She likes orange."

>"Hm."

>He brings the label of the shampoo to his vision. He squints at it, and then at you.

>"Canine hair products?"

>Shit.

>"Hey... Don't judge. That's the only brand that works for me. You're getting money for it either way."

>"...Yeah, okay pal."

>He doesn't inquire about your purchases after that.

>

>"Sophia? I'm home!"

>You place everything you bought on the kitchen counter.

>In doing so, you notice the cereal box and bowl exactly where you left them.

>Is...she really still asleep?

>Quietly, you make your way over to the couch.

>Sophia's still there, but she's not asleep. She's staring right at you.

>In fact, she looks the complete opposite of tired.

>Lucid and alert.

>It makes you a little uneasy honestly.

>"Uh, Sophia? Have you been there all day?"

>"Mm-hm."

>"Did you see the note?"

>She looks down, quick to break eye contact.

>Her ears and tail droop down.

>"I-I'm sorry. I can't read..."

>Oh. You hadn't thought about that.

>She's shivering again.

>"I'm sorry..." She repeats.

>"No, it's my fault."

>She looks back up at you, expression shifting slightly towards confusion.

>"I guess I hadn't considered that. You must be really hungry right now."

>"Y-You're not...?" She trails off.

>"Not what?"

>She opens her mouth, but stops herself, and resigns to weakly shaking her head.

>You decide it's better to not try and force anything from her. Instead you change the subject.

>"I got some stuff for you. Follow me to the kitchen."

>"She gets off the couch quicker than you'd expect.

>"Yes sir."

>"Sir?"

>You look back at her just in time to see her eyes widen.

>"D-do you not want me to call you that? I'm sorry, I th-thought you expected it and it was respectful and-and--"

>"Woah, calm down," you cut her off from the verge of panic. "You're fine. You've done nothing wrong. Just caught me off guard a little."

>"I'm sorry..."

>"You apologize too much."

>"I'm... Oh."

>You watch her shift around nervously, and hatch a thought that makes you sadder than you thought it would.

>"Are you afraid of me, Sophia?" you ask.

>"What?" she freezes.

>"Do you want to leave?"

>"I..." She stands there, completely flustered.

>Maybe you shouldn't have asked that.

>Just before you can fill the silence, you hear her meek voice.

>"I don't know."

>It could have easily been a throwaway answer, but she sounded so genuine. Confused and genuine.

>She stares at her feet.

>You don't like seeing her like this.

>"I, uh..." You clear your throat. "I want to find a good family for you. People that'll take good care of you. Would you like that?"

>Sophia looks back up at you, and affirms with a subtle nod.

>Seems like you said the right thing. Sophia looks slightly less dejected now.

>Still, something about that exchange didn't sit right with you.

>

>"I hope it isn't too big for you. Didn't quite know what size to get," you hold up the new dress so Sophia can see it.

>She stares without speaking, and for a moment you're concerned.

>"Do you not like it? I'm sorry about the color, I can get another one sometime soon."

>"...It's new?" She asks.

>"Yeah. I bought it on the way here."

>"And it's for me?"

>"Are you surprised?"

>She looks down at her own, raggedy dress, and fidgits with the cloth.

>"A little...."

>You realize the dress she's wearing must be a hand-me-down. Probably an attempt by her foster center to save money.

>It makes you wonder if there are any other cut corners that Sophia has grown to be used to...

>You lay the dress onto a counter.

>"I also got you some of these...."

>From a plastic bag, you pull out the canine hair products.

>"You know what they're for, right?"

>She nods.

>"And how to use them?"

>She nods again. Good.

>"And one more thing... Are you still hungry?"

>Obviously you know she is. She hasn't eaten anything today yet.

>Instead of waiting for her to reluctantly confirm it, you pull out the final item of the bag.

>As you do, you notice her attention shift right towards it. Her ears droop.

>"Do you like ice cream?"

>"I don't know..."

>You're sensing a pattern here involving anything that isn't a necessity.

>"You've never had ice cream before?"

>Sophia stares down at her feet.

>"No...." She sounds very...defeated? That's the best way you can describe it.

>Is she lactose intolerant or something? Is that possible for wolves? The norm even?

>"...Would you like some?"

>All the sudden, she looks back up at you, seemingly taken aback by your offer.

>"W-What? I... What did I do?"

>Oh no, did you say the wrong thing? You don't want her to start panicking again.

>"Hey hey hey! You aren't in trouble! I'm not trying to punish you!" you try reassuringly.

>Your words seem to be working; her perked ears and tail begin to relax... But now she's looking at you weirdly?

>"Ice cream is not for punishment..." she says softly, almost as if she's trying to be reassuring to you instead.

>"Ah... Yes," you really have no idea what to say. This whole interaction about ice cream has just been confusing to you.

>Her pupils drift downward; and her ears and tail appear to completely succumb to gravity.

>"...Ice cream is for good kids."

>She's almost completely motionless.

>You're getting that feeling again. The one you felt seeing her scrape her knees in the alleyway.

>It feels like pity, but with a strong sense of duty attached.

>It makes you nervous for some reason.

>...

>But...

>You need to be doing better.

>"Ah, hey, you've been good..." you try, "Go ahead and take it."

>For some reason, that jerked a quick response, and she wordlessly takes the pint from your outstretched arm, surprising you.

>She doesn't try opening it though, she just...holds it.

>"What did I do?" her eyes stare past the pint and settle cautiously on you.

>"I... Sophia...."

>Taking a short pause, you clear your throat.

>A tone of confidence is something you'll likely need to get your point across to her.

>"You don't need to feel obligated to earn it. I'm giving it to you because I want you to feel better here. You don't need to do anything for it. You're not a bad kid."

>She remains unmoving, unblinking, and unresponsive.

>Did it not work?

>"..."

>"..."

>"...Are you sure?"

>At last, she blinks, briefly turning her attention to the cold pint in her hands, before staring back at you.

>Without much hesitation, you try to regain your confidence that had fleeted during the silence.

>"Of course," and then, a little less stalwart, "Eh, aren't your hands getting cold?"

>She peeks down at the container.

>"Mm-hm."

>It's been in her grip for a while, and her palms are wet from thawing the frost.

>"Aren't they getting numb?"

>"Mm-hm."

>Still, Sophia doesn't move.

>"...Here, I'll put this on the table."

>With one hand, you gently grasp the top of the pint.

>The little wolf offers no resistance whatsoever as you slide it out of her grip.

>Cracking the lid open and grabbing a spoon, you place the ice cream at the table for her. She lingers behind you.

>Once that's done, you motion for her to take a seat, and she promptly does so.

>She appears to contemplate the treat, as if it were forbidden from being eaten.

>After some intense inaction, she grips the spoon.

>She turns her head to face you, wordlessly seeking confirmation.

>You simply respond with an approving nod.

>Its enough for her to scoop a small sample of ice cream, contemplate it some more, and finally eat it.

>And for a very brief moment, you witness something that catches you off guard.

>Her eyelids droop, and the edges of her mouth shift upward into a smile.

>She looks happy.

>Experiencing something she's never had the chance to take for granted...

>Unfortunately somethings seems to click within her, and instead of scooping some more, she turns to you once more.

>She appears nervous and regretful...

>But before you can do anything, her somber expression quickly melts away.

>You have no idea why, but you aren't complaining.

>"Thank you Anon," she speaks the most confident you've ever heard her.

>Her next spoonful is a much bigger one.

>It takes a little while for you to realize that you had been smiling.

>

>During the remainder of work, and the drive home, your thoughts are once again fixated on Sophia. However, they're much less paranoid this time.

>Like usual, you don't want to think about the authorities finding out you're taking care of an anthro without any sort of paperwork done.

>But this time it's not because you're scared of the consequences. It's because such thoughts just feel like a nuisance at the moment.

>You've been feeling...optimistic lately. Almost, you shamefully admit to yourself, giddy.

>This good mood has been lasting much longer than you thought it would.

>It makes you think about why you're feeling the way you are.

>Because you made her happy, that part is obvious.

>But why does that make YOU so happy?

>It's not that you're an edgy, cold-hearted bastard. But you're also not a super sunshine-y fellow that feeds off of the positive vibes of others.

>It just made you feel...

>...

>There it is again. That alien impulse you're starting to become so familiar with.

>No time to decipher it now. You're home.

>"I'm back, Sophia! Could you come here for a sec?" you announce once inside the house, holding a freshly bought purchased pajama set among other things.

>You had quickly gone to get a few more articles of clothing for her, though you realized you still hadn't figured out her size. Estimations were made.

>The pajamas are a dark blue with a pattern of yellow moons, both full and crescent variants.

>Is that insensitive for a wolf?

>Pit pat! Pit pat! Pit pat!

>Rushed footsteps, starting from the living room, find themselves stopping two feet from you.

>"Yes s... Yes Anon," the young wolf speaks, posture as if she were about to salute a military superior.

>It'd be cute if she was jokingly acting so stoic, but she doesn't loosen up.

>You take a moment to recollect your thoughts.

>"Were you okay while I was gone?"

>"Mm-hm," she nods her head.

>"Good. Did you have anything for dinner?"

>Another nod, "You told me to have the cereal," she says less matter-of-factly and more as a confirmation that she had understood your recommendation.

>Anyway, cereal was more like a quick suggestion before you had to leave for work.

>Though thinking back, you didn't have too much stuff she could prepare on her own.

>Nothing for breakfast, ice cream for lunch, and cereal for dinner...

>You really need to get your game together.

>"Anyway," you change the subject, "I got you these."

>You present the pajama set to her, which she studies intently.

>"For...?" she stops herself from finishing her question, as if some new thought had invalidated it. Instead, she looks back at you. "Thank you, Anon."

>"You're welcome," you smile. You want to make sure you smile a lot.

>You don't want her to be afraid of you.

>Hopefully it doesn't seem creepy.

>Sophia herself isn't smiling, but she doesn't look tense either.

>Her eyes scan the pajamas, and her mouth is ever so slightly open. Tail perked up, but still.

>You suppose that she looks curious, or inquisitive.

>"But first, you need to get cleaned up. Could you follow me upstairs?"

>Whatever kind of trance she was in looking at the pajamas is broken. "Okay," is all she says as she waits for you to lead the way.

>You grab the canine shampoo and conditioner before making your way up to the second floor, Sophia trailing behind you.

>Before long you've made it to the bathroom.

>"I'll run a bath for you," you say, placing her new clothes on the counter and the hair products on the rim of the tub, "You, uh, you'll know what to do if I leave you to it?"

>She nods her head without hesitation.

>"Good."

>Turning the lever, you get some hot water flowing. Once the tub is about three quarters full, you stop it.

>"When you're finished, just flick this thing down; it'll drain the water," you inform, drawing her attention to the drain trigger.

>"Okay."

>"Alright... I'll give you some privacy."

>"Okay."

>You close the door behind you as you leave.

>It can't be overstated how glad you are that she doesn't need help bathing.

>As you wait for her to finish her bath, you grab your laptop and head to your bed to pass the time.

>Instinctually you begin typing...

>"teaching someone how to read"

>You blink.

>Were you even consciously thinking when you typed that?

>Why do you need to know how...

>Oh yeah...

>You had forgotten Sophia couldn't read, even though she had been notably scared to admit that to you.

>Doesn't really matter, you aren't a teacher.

>You highlight your question, ready to press delete.

>...Though, it couldn't be that hard, could it?

>Maybe you'll just look at the first few tips that pop up, for curiosity's sake.

>You press enter.

>The results are semi-predictable: go through the alphabet in its entirety, apply sounds to recognizable things, start with single syllable words...

>Again, you ask yourself why you're looking into this.

>You're not obligated, much less qualified, to teach a child how to read.

>You'll find her a nice family that will get her enrolled in school.

>...Though, her getting a head start on it would undeniably be a big help.

>But what if she doesn't even want to be taught by you? How many conversations have the two of you shared that weren't awkward during any point?

>...Though, you could just ASK if she'd be okay with it.

>But her willingness wouldn't make you any better a teacher...

>Your thoughts on the matter continue to go back and forth as you sit there.

>However, they're interrupted at the sound of a door opening.

>She's done already?

>You close your laptop and head to the bathroom door.

>She stands at the threshold, wearing her new pajamas, and holding her dirty purple dress.

>The bath really went a long way for her fur.

>The inconsistent coloring caused by its dirtiness is gone, replaced with a clean, solid gray.

>The raggedness is absent as well. Each strand of hair appears uniformly down, shining like silk all together.

>You also notice just how skinny she is.

>It was hard to tell before with her dress, but now it really shows just how few full meals she's gotten to experience...

>So frail... But at least clean now.

>"Did everything go well?" you ask.

>She nods.

>"That's good. How do the pajamas feel?"

>"Warm."

>"So... You like them?"

>She gives a more vigorous nodding for that question.

>"I'm glad," you smile at her again.

>Sophia stares at you, as if she needs to say something.

>"I-I... Um. You..." she mumbles, pauses, and then with more finality, "Th-thank you," her voice sounds genuine, but still uneasy.

>In fact, you notice her tense up a little bit.

>"You're welcome."

>But just like that, and to your relief, she loosens up again.

>Turning slightly away from you, Sophia tries to hide a yawn with the back of her hand.

>This doesn't slip past you of course, she's mere feet away from you.

>"Are you tired?" you ask.

>"...A little."

>"Do you want to go to bed?" couch technically. You find that you really wish you had a guest bed or something.

>She ponders your question for a little while.

>"...Okay."

>"Here, I'll take that to get washed," you extend a hand towards the dress she's holding.

>Without missing a beat, but still cautiously, she drapes it over your arm.

>With the dress in hand, the two of you make your way downstairs.

>Your paths split at the bottom. You to the laundry room, and her to the living room.

>You place her clothes into the washing machine and start a cycle.

>Such mundane things feel as if they have more weight now. More purpose. The reason is obvious, but it still surprises you how different it all feels.

>Walking back toward the living room, you find Sophia as you saw her this morning: lying on the couch with blankets and pillows.

>"Are you comfortable?"

"Mm-hm."

>"Good," that could have easily been the end of such an engaging conversation, but then you remembered, "Sophia? Do you...wish you could read?"

>She gives it a moment. A familiar silence builds its way between the two of you.

>"...Yes."

>Now for the tougher question, "Would you like it if I tried to teach you?"

>Another period of silence, this one longer than the last.

>"...If you're okay with it...."

>"I'm okay with it as long as you are."

>"..."

>"Alright then... I'll, uh, let you get some shuteye. I'll be in my room."

>"Okay."

>"Goodnight."

>"...Goodnight."

>You flick the light switch off and leave her be.

>Once you've turned all the lights off downstairs, you retire to your room.

>You let out a sigh.

>Part of you is glad that your conversations with her have only been in short bursts.

>For whatever reason, speaking with her drains your energy.

>It's not that you dislike her or anything, just that all your conversations feel a little one-sided.

>Though you can't...aren't...going to blame her for that. You understand she's probably unused to this situation.

>Hopefully things will get better as you attempt to tutor her.

>...

>You really are going to try and teach her, huh?

>You're realizing just now how much of a whim that idea was.

>But you can't take it back now.

>No matter how bad of an instructor you'll be, you at least promised her you'd give it a shot.

***

>Sophia's orange dress was, in fact, a little too long for her.

>But as far as you can tell, she doesn't care at all.

>Instead of complaining, she opts to pinch the fabric and feel it between her fingers.

>You watch as she trots around the living room, feeling out the new outfit.

>It makes you glad that she's enjoying it so much, though slightly concerned that she may trip on it.

>Luckily that never happens.

>Sophia stops to look expectantly at you every now and again.

>You smile each time, and she goes back on her way.

>There's a strange sense of...rhythm? Familiarity? You can't quite place it.

>Meanwhile, you shuffle through some papers that you had printed out.

>You find one that has every letter of the alphabet, capital and lowercase versions adjacent to each other.

>Each pair of letters has a design representing something that starts with that letter.

>The "Tt"s are trees,

>The "Ss"s are snakes,

>The "Oo"s are oranges, and so forth.

>Overall, a very colorful and happy looking sheet of paper.

>Taking a deep breath, you set aside the other sheets for now.

>"Sophia, could you come over here?" you gently call.

>She freezes for half a second at the mention of her name, but other than that, you quickly find her in front of you.

>She stands up straight and eyes you attentively.

>"Careful running in that dress," you say, "You could easily trip."

>She breaks eye contact.

>"Oh... I'm sorry."

>"It's okay. I just don't want you getting hurt. Remember when you scraped your knee?"

>Instinctively, Sophia placed her hand on where the mentioned injury occurred. You realize there's probably still a scab.

>"It hurt...." she recalls.

>"Has it been hurting recently?"

>She shakes her head.

>"That's good," you say.

>Should you...check the injury?

>"Well, uh, how about we let you get your mind off of that..."

>You hold out the alphabet sheet to her.

>Sophia stares curiously at your offering before slowly taking it from your grasp.

>"...Is this the alphabet?"

>"Yeah," you try to add a slight amount of enthusiasm to your voice, "do you recognize any of the letters?"

>"Um..." you noticed a slight droop of her ears at the question.

>"That one..." she points at the "A".

>"That one..." the "B".

>"That one..." the "C".

>"And...um..." she scans the page, and it takes her a moment before she can point at another.

>"Oh, that one!"

>She points at the "S".

>"My name starts with that one."

>Sophia herself had also expressed a little bit of enthusiasm with her remark. It makes you smile a bit.

>"Hm... That one too," she says, pointing to crossbones "X", displayed through an x-ray.

>"X?" you question.

>"Mm-hm. It means 'No' or 'Gone'," Sophia states matter-of-factly.

>"Well, I suppose it could, but uh, do you know what sounds it makes?"

>She doesn't have an answer for that, head lowering a bit in shame.

>"...Never mind. Sorry...."

>"Hey, don't be sorry. This is why we're doing this."

>"..."

>She doesn't respond.

>"So," you break the silence. "Do you know the song Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?"

>"I think..."

>"Well, kids use the beat of that song to help memorize the alphabet. Why don't we give it a try? Repeat after me..."

>Oh God, are you really doing this?

>You clear your throat and hope this won't sound too bad.

>"A B C D E F G..." you don't attempt to stretch your voice very far in either direction. You're no singer. With every letter, you point at the sheet where said letter is located.

>"...A B C D E F G..." Sophia repeats quietly, matching your own vocal range. You aren't setting too good an example it seems.

>The two of you make your way through the alphabet. Despite what your semi-monotone singing voice would imply, you really are trying to get her into it.

>"Y and Z."

>"...Y and Z."

>"Good!" you praise, "Just like that."

>"O-Oh... Okay," she mutters, "But I don't know if I can remember all of them."

>"That's okay, I just wanted to introduce you into it. We'll practice it some more later," you point at the sheet, "Let's look at this for now. What is this?"

>Sophia focuses where you're pointing.

>"A?"

>"Yes, but what's crawling over it?"

>"...An ant."

>"Yep. Since the ant is on the 'A', can you guess what 'ant' starts with?"

>She gives it a little bit of thought.

>"A?"

>"Good! Do you see where I'm going with this?"

>"I think so."

>You point at the "N", which is encased within a transparent butterfly net.

>"This is an 'N'. Do you see what the 'N' is inside of?"

>"A...net?"

>"Yes, good! So the sound it makes is...?"

>"Neh?"

>"Er, yeah. Nnh. How about the 'T' over here?" You point at the tree-formed letter, "What sounds to you think it makes?"

>"Um," the wolf stares for a moment, "Tch?"

>You realize the flaw of your method too late.

>"Ah, no. That's not quite it," you say, partly to yourself.

>"Oh...." Sophia ducks her head in a dejected manner once again.

>You realize the other mistake you just made.

>"Ah, hey! That wasn't your fault!" She looks back up at you. "It was my bad. That letter, 'T', makes a 'tuh' sound. The word 'Tree' starts with 'T', but doesn't quite follow the rules."

>The wolf's eyes scan you, as if she's trying to decipher a clue from whatever you just said.

>Explaining the phonetic inconsistencies of the English language is going to be fun time...

>"So anyway, let's try putting that all together."

>You take out a pencil and write "A N T" in the free space at the bottom of the page. You set your pointer finger on "A".

>Sophia watches intently, ready to absorb the secret skill of literacy.

>"What sound does this letter make?"

>"Ah."

>You slide your finger to the "N".

>You manage to spot her taking a glance at the net.

>"Nnn."

>You nod and smile. Now for the "T".

>"...Tuh?"

>"You've got it! Now, can you say every sound together?"

>"...Antuh?" Upon hearing her voice, Sophia's wrinkled confusion suddenly transforms to wide-eyed awe, "Ant! Like right there!"

>A small tingle of accomplishment wavers in your chest as Sophia points to the ants around the "A".

>Your lesson was godawful, obviously, but the end result was fulfilling nonetheless.

>"Great job Sophia!"

>The sound of her name triggered some kind of realization for Sophia.

>She tries to turn her head at an angle as to obscure her grin from you, but you can still make it out.

>"T-Thank you," she bashfully makes out.

>"Of course," you smile. "Let's try another. How about this?"

>You write "C A T" on the paper.

>"Do you remember what sound 'C' makes?"

>In a moment, Sophia's pride was exchanged for intense concentration.

>"Cuh...Cuh-at? Cat!" she beams.

>"Aren't you a fast learner?" with your pencil, you write down a few more words to form a sentence.

>"A   C A T   S A T   A T   A   M A T"

>The change of your pupil's expression would have implied that you just wrote something obscene.

>"U-Um...." she stutters.

>"I know this looks difficult at a glance, but you've already have most of it down," you tell her.

>"I do?" she sounds unconvinced.

>"Of course. Just look at each word by itself, and ignore the others. Start here," you cover the entire sentence, minus the beginning "A", with your palm.

>"Ah...." she utters, and you slide your palm to unveil the next word as she goes along.

>"Ah...cat...s-at...at...ah...."

>Sophia appears to be stumped on the last word, so you decide to drop a hint.

>"Mmm."

>"...Mmm-at," she finishes. "A cat...sat at a...mat?"

>"Perfect!"

>"I got it?" she turns wide-eyed to you.

>"You've just read your first sentence," you confirm her achievements, with another warm smile of course.

>Sophia's eyes glisten, appearing utterly awestruck.

>Speechless, she can't take her eyes off of the sentence she read.

>Something about her glee must be rubbing off on you, as you wouldn't be able to wipe the genuine smile off your face if you tried.

>It's not just her achievement that's making you feel good, but her just how...happy she looks.

>Well, more so surprised, and maybe a little unsure, but there's no doubt that she's reveling in this moment.

>But you know that your teaching methods need to spend a bit more time in the planning phase.

>"How about we take a break, and continue this another time?" you suggest.

>There's a twinge of disappointment on her face for a millisecond, but it immediately reverts back.

>"Oh... Okay," she speaks with a nod.

>Sophia looks from the paper to her twiddling fingers.

>"It was fun," she puts in.

>"Fun, hm?" there's another small taste of pride in your chest. "You'd make a great student, Sophia."

>She's doesn't respond right away, and for a second, you worry you may have said something wrong.

>"...D-Do you really think so?" she says softly.

>"I know so," you admit, that response was a little corny.

>"Thank you, Anon."

>Corny, but effecti-

>...

>Your mind froze for a second, after having realized she said your name.

>That shouldn't have surprised you so much, but it did.

>In an epiphany emphasizing the obvious, you realize that YOU are the one who's been taking care of her.

>YOU are the one who's providing food and shelter for her. You're even attempting to start an education for her.

>In realizing all of this, you begin to feel...

>...Afraid?

>...

>Maybe this is all a big mistake, the consequences just haven't come into fruition yet.

>Is it too late to-

>No, stop.

>You mentally slap yourself.

>Are are NOT going to just dump her back in the streets.

>What the hell are you getting so scared all of the sudden?

>Everything has been going fine. In fact, you dare think that things are going better than fine.

>Let's just...shake this feeling.

>You stand up. Sophia simply watches.

>She appears expectant, as if waiting for an order.

>"How about I make us some dinner?" you ask.

>"Okay," she nods.

>As you collect the papers, you realize you could have easily put on some sort of educational program on your laptop.

>In retrospect, it probably would have been much more effective than you were.

>Why hadn't that crossed your mind?

>Though, that seems a little...impersonal?

>Maybe you can still guide her through it. No reason not to try.

>

>After rinsing the plates, you set them down in the sink.

>Dinner was nothing to write home about.

>Sophia had been quick to clean her plate, and left nothing wasted.

>She had thanked you for the meal, and sauntered back towards the living room.

>You find her sitting on the couch, sweeping at her dress as if trying to wipe off dust.

>It's a bit cute how fascinating she finds her dress... But a little sad too.

>Such an experience appears to be alien to her.

>You, for sure as hell, know that this is an alien experience to yourself.

>You just look at her and realize that this wolf is under your roof.

>Under your custody.

>Under your protection.

>Under your...

>Under your care.

>And that's terrifying.

>But you need to be brave. This is your responsibility. SHE is your responsibility.

>That is, until you can find her a good home...

>...

>Did you just wince?

>God, you really hope this anxiety isn't straining your mental health too hard.

>You take a deep breath to prepare you for the daunting interaction that lies ahead...

>"Hey Sophia, I think it's time you brush your teeth."

>"Okay."

>Without skipping a beat, Sophia dismounts the couch and heads to the upstairs bathroom.

>You follow close behind, making sure her dress doesn't cause her to tumble down. No such misfortune occurs.

>With the new toothbrush you bought for her, and a dollop of toothpaste, Sophia gets to work.

>You wonder for a second how different it is for carnivorous anthros, such as wolves like Sophia, to brush their teeth.

>Whatever the differences, the toothbrush appears to be completely undamaged once she's done.

>"Is it bed time now?" She asks out of the blue.

>"Oh, uh, do you want to go to bed now?"

>Her response is staring at you without an answer.

>"...Why don't you get your pajamas on? You can decide after that."

>"Okay."

>You watch as she leaves to get her pajamas.

>Sure enough, after a few moments, she meets you back at the couch in her comfy nightwear.

>"Are you tired, Sophia?"

>She nods.

>"Do you want to go to bed?"

>"...Should I?" she inquires.

>"It's up to you."

>You wait as she ponders her decisions...

>"...What do you want?" she asks after some thought.

>"Whatever you want," you affirm.

>"..."

>Apparently you've stumped her.

>You wait a little for a response.

>Every now and then, it looks like Sophia may actually say something...

>But she always stops herself.

>"You said you were tired, right?"

>She nods again.

>"So maybe you should get some shuteye..."

>"Okay."

>"...Unless you want to stay up a little."

>"I'm fine."

>Without further input, the wolf readjusts the pillow on the arm of the couch.

>She slides her feet under the blankets and pulls them up.

>From the way the blankets shift, you can tell she's curling up slightly.

>"Well, if you say so," you mumble. "I'll get the lights."

>With the flick of a switch, the room is enveloped in darkness.

>"Goodnight, Sophia."

>"Goodnight, Anon."

>With that, you take your leave.

>Once you find yourself on your own bed—or the only bed in the house, you suppose—you snag your laptop.

>You flip it open, but quickly find yourself struggling for ideas.

>There's really nothing more you can work on for your work projects.

>And in terms of entertainment, you're drawing a blank.

>But you can't shake this feeling that there's something you need to look into.

>Something very important...

>...

>...Something with Sophia, perhaps?

>...

>It hits you.

>How the hell have you forgotten this long?

>You were supposed to be looking into places that could house Sophia.

>Places that can ACTUALLY take care of her.

>Places that wouldn't give people the wrong idea about her wellbeing.

>Places that would take her off your hands so you can get back to your life, and unafraid that at any moment, somehow word gets out, and you get in big trouble.

>Why has it taken you this long to realize you should be, at the very least, doing some research?

>That reason is beyond you.

>Better late than never, you suppose...

>

>Unfortunately, valuable information in dealing with your...let's not say problem...situation, is sparse.

>There is one group home in the city, but there were heavy implications that only humans are accepted.

>Through old images and outdated directions, there are few hints that there had been one in the anthro-populated section of town. Though it's seemingly just rental property now.

>The closest home that accepts anthros is a plane ride away. At least, one with a website to verify it exists, that is.

>Your heart sinks.

>Is there really nothing you can do? How're you supposed to do this without outside help?

>This really was all a big mistake, wasn't it? Maybe-

>...

>What is that?

>Someone talking?

>You hear...Sophia's voice from downstairs.

>Is there someone else down there?

>Your blood runs cold at the thought, but you don't waste time.

>Getting out of bed, you try to quietly make your way downstairs.

>It's dark, of course, but you can still make out enough to navigate.

>Sophia's voice gets louder, but you still can't make out anything she's saying. It comes and goes at infrequent intervals.

>However, it does sound...repetitive?

>As if she's saying the same thing over and over.

>It gives you a bad vibe, and a chill runs through your back.

>But you keep going, reaching the bottom of the stairs and heading to the living room...

>Peeking around the corner, you find...

>Sophia, still lying on the couch. Tucked in with the blankets you had given her.

>It's hard to tell, what with still being in the dark, but you think you see her ears folded against her head.

>"I sor...."

>Did she say something?

>"Sophia...?"

>"I'm s... I'm sorry... I-I'm sorry-y-y...." her voice becomes more and more clear as you get closer.

>Upon closer inspection, she appears to be shaking like a leaf.

>Her eyes are shut tight, but...

>That couldn't stop the stream of tears you find on her face.

>"I-I-I-I'm s-sorry-y-y...."

>You panic a little inside.

>She's having a nightmare?

>What do you do? What should you do?

>"S...Sophia," you awkwardly whisper as you tap her shoulder.

>She instantly recoils at your touch, wriggling as if trapped by the blanket. Her breathing hastens.

>Her struggles quickly increase.

>Simply witnessing it sets in a myriad of largely unfamiliar emotions. None of them positive.

>"Sophia, wake up," you say, louder than before. "It's just a dream... Sophia... Sophie...!"

>Your voice further causes a stir within her sleep.

>Her sleep-murmurs begin to sound less like words and more like fearful whines.

>"Sophie!" you nearly shout.

>With a heavy gasp she sits up. Her eyes snap open, pupils the size of pinpricks.

>"I'll be a good girl! I'll be a good girl! I'm sorry-y-y-y!"

>Terror shoots through your body.

>What are you supposed to do?!

>Sophia's eyes peer straight through you.

>Awake, yet not present.

>Without thinking, you try to steady her by grabbing her shoulders.

>"Sophie, it's me, Anon! Anon! You're alright! You're safe! Nobody's trying to hurt you!" you spout, desperately trying to avoid reflecting her own terrified expression. You probably aren't succeeding very much. "You're safe here! You're safe!"

>It takes a few seconds before Sophia is able to notice you, directly in front of her. She never stops shaking though.

>Her crazed mumbles die down as she slowly returns to reality.

>...

>She sniffles.

>Then sobs.

>There's only one thing going on in your head right now.

>What

>The

>Fuck.

>...

>After some inaction, you try to get a good look at Sophia.

>However, you only get a look at the top of her head as she peers down at he ground, tears rolling off her snout.

>Something burns within you. A drive telling you this needs to be fixed.

>You think back to when you were a child, crying over a broken toy or a skinned knee.

>You think about Mom and Dad...

>It feels like your subconscious takes over as you gently guide her towards you, and you embrace her.

>"It's okay Sophia... I'm here for you," you softly tell her. "Everything is alright...."

>She doesn't resist, nor pull away.

>The wolf continues her weak sobs and sniffles.

>It's subtle, but you can tell she's leaning into you.

>With her chin on your shoulder, you can eventually hear a quaking voice...

>"I-I-I'm sorry, Anon...."

>"You've done nothing wrong."

>"S-sorry for being a-annoying...."

>"You're not annoying."

>She doesn't respond after that, limply resting over your shoulder.

>Part of you wants to ask what exactly she was dreaming about. But at the same time, you don't want to reignite...whatever that was.

>Instead, the both of you stay as you are for a while.

>Sophia's sobs eventually die down, and you two finally break the hug. She wipes her tears with the back of her hand.

>"I'm okay now...." she meeks out unconvincingly.

>Just one look at her messy, tear-stained fur and you knew you had an obligation to do...something.

>"If you want, Sophia, I'll stay here for you," you offer. "Would you like that?"

>She doesn't respond immediately, but eventually...

>"...I don't want to bother you."

>"I don't mind at all. If it'll prevent you from having another nightmare, I'd rather be here."

>She alternates between staring at the floor and staring at you.

>"...Okay," she caves.

>With that, she somberly repositions herself on the couch.

>Instinctively, you neatly drape the blankets over her and tuck the crying wolf in.

>"Remember, I'll be here for you," you tell her.

>She stares at you with wet eyes and a defeated visage.

>She looks sick.

>But nonetheless, she speaks...

>"...T-Thank you, Anon."

>"Of course."

>Getting up and stepping back, you realize there really isn't another good place to lay down. You resign yourself to finding the most comfortable spot sitting on an armchair.

>Even though it's dark, you can tell Sophia watches as you do. You give her a reassuring smile and hope she can see it.

>She seems to accept it as she closes her eyes.

>Attempting to do so quietly, you let out a heavy exhale.

>What the fuck just happened? She just had a panic attack.

>You wipe the sweat from your brow... Wait, when did you start sweating?

>Your heart still feels restless.

>What the fuck did you get yourself into?

>As certain as your name is Anon, you aren't qualified to deal with this.

>But...you remember you're the only one she's got right now.

>You'll call in sick tomorrow. You can't leave Sophia alone after something like that.

>

>You aren't able to fall asleep.

>Sophia may be having the same problem.

>Whether she can or can't, you stay dutiful in your promise.

>Sitting silently with jumbled thoughts.

>After some time of retrospection, it's a little surprising when you finally realized you had called her "Sophie."

***

>"Again, I'm so sorry."

>"Don't worry about it, Anon. You're doing everyone a favor not coming in," Ceight says over the phone.

>You give a weak chuckle.

>"Just get better for tomorrow if you can, will you?"

>"Of course... Thank you," you may not be sick, but the lack of sleep certainly helps you sound like you are.

>"Goodbye."

>"Bye."

>She hangs up.

>You breathe another sigh.

>Using one of your sick days this early was not something you wanted to do.

>But you feel it had to be done.

>You kept your promise to Sophia.

>There when she fell asleep, and still there when she woke up.

>The armchair did your back no favors though.

>Either way, you've got the entire day to ensure Sophia is doing all right.

>Should you ask her about the nightmare?

>Or maybe it'd be better if you took a casual approach, without making her feel like she's pressured to tell you about something she's not comfortable with.

>Sophia's still on the couch, unsurprisingly.

>It's as if she's claimed it. Not intentionally, rather she's just too nervous to venture out any farther without your permission.

>You pour two bowls of cereal since you have practically nothing else at the moment.

>"Sophia, come have some breakfast," you call to her.

>She's quick to respond, making her way towards you.

>You hand her a bowl and spoon.

>"Thank you," she says before walking to the table.

>Her vocabulary hasn't been too diverse, you think.

>"Thank you," "Okay," and most prominently "Sorry," seem to make up the majority of what she says.

>Perhaps that in itself could be a conversation starter?

>You join her at the dinner table.

>"So Sophia..." you awkwardly start, her attention snaps to you. "You don't seem to like to talk very much."

>"I don't want to do something wrong...." she returns.

>"Something wrong?"

>"I...don't want to be annoying."

>"Why do you think that'd be annoying?"

>She doesn't have an answer, giving a weak shrug.

>You remember last night, Sophia waking up from a nightmare in a panic and promising she'd be a "good girl."

>It unsettles you.

>"Sophia, you shouldn't be scared to speak your mind."

>"..."

>"I want to make sure you're comfortable here, but I can't help unless I know you have a problem. If there's something you need to say, it's not going to annoy me. I promise."

>Still no response. Just wordless attentiveness.

>There's really nothing else you can say on that matter.

>You communicated your point, but Sophia actually needs to initiate for your point to be proven.

>In the silence, you go back to eating.

>If she really doesn't want to talk, then you won't try to force it out of her.

>...

>"...I-I was wondering..." she stutters to your surprise. "Can I...ask something?"

>You jump at this opportunity.

>"Of course. Anything."

>"W-Well... I... Thank you so much for helping me, but..." she breaks eye contact, seemingly unsure of how to finish her inquiry. "Why...?"

>Why? Why did you decide to take her in?

>"Why help me?"

>That...was a harder question to answer than you anticipated.

>"Well, I thought about when we first met," you start, pausing to mull over your thought process at the time. "I thought about how you were just a child, homeless, without anyone to help you."

>You give it some more thought.

>"If something were to happen to you, it wouldn't have been easy on my conscious."

>"Your what?"

>"Er, I'd feel really awful."

>"...For me?"

>"Well, yeah. You didn't deserve that. You're a good kid."

>"You think I'm a...a good kid?"

>"Why is that surprising to you?"

>"I... I'm always bothering people."

>You may not have known Sophia for very long, but it's not hard to get a good idea why she's the way she is.

>"There were people who took care of you before me, right?"

>She nods.

>"Do you think you were always bothering them?"

>Another nod, not as weak as the last.

>"Do you know why?"

>No nod this time. Rather she looks aimlessly downward.

>You take a deep breath.

>"Hey, listen," her gaze shifts to you. "It doesn't sound to me that you were with good people."

>"But it's my fault."

>"No, Sophia, they just wanted you to feel that way."

>"..."

>"I don't know who they were, but I've seen how you act. However they treated you, I want you to know that things are different here."

>"..."

>"You shouldn't be scared. I'm not going to get angry when you have something you want to say or do."

>Sophia looks back at you as if she has no idea what you're saying.

>It takes a few attempts before she's able to find her voice.

>"...Really?"

>"Really."

>She has nothing to say after that, but you feel there's been a subtle change in her expression. One more...thoughtful, perhaps?

>The two of you finish breakfast in silence.

>Afterwards, and as usual, Sophia spends her time quietly at the couch.

>This time however, she appears less nervous, at the expense of being even more distant and aloof.

>Lost in her own thoughts, blankly staring rather than studying the room.

>Though, you realize that there's not really much she is able to do anyway.

>Maybe you could buy her some toys. Give her something else to do than watch the hours scrape by.

>Thanks to work, you know there's a humble toy store minutes away. You could easily make a quick trip.

>But before you leave, you approach Sophia, who snaps out of her thoughts so to give you her undivided attention.

>"Hey, Sophia, I'm going to head out for a little bit. Will you be all right while I'm gone?" you ask earnestly.

>After last night, you want to be sure she's okay with being home alone for a little while.

>"Yes," she responds, quite taciturn.

>"Are you sure?"

>"I'll be okay."

>Her responses are still brief, yet the subtle change in demeanor is slightly jarring.

>"All right then. I'll be back soon."

>She nods.

>

>With a bag of new toys in one hand, you use your other to open the door to your house.

>As per usual, you announce you are home.

>You make your way over to the couch, knowing that Sophia probably hasn't even moved from there since you've been gone.

>...Except, you're surprised to find her absent from her usual spot.

>You turn to the sound of rushing, padded feet making their way towards you.

>She stops near you, posture as straight and stiff as can be.

>"There you are," you say. "I didn't expect to see you anywhere away from here."

>"Is that okay?" She makes out meekly. "I just wanted to look around."

>"There's nothing wrong with that. I don't want you thinking this is the only room you're allowed in."

>"Oh. Thank you," she nods.

>Thanking you for what? Not getting mad she moved from one room to another?

>Moving on from that, you catch her eyes peering at the bag you're holding.

>"So anyway, I was worried you were getting bored here with nothing to do," you begin. "So I picked up a few things...."

>You reach into the bag, pulling out a stuffed rabbit like a magic trick. It definitely had Sophia's attention.

>"I thought you could use a little pal to keep you company when I can't. Someone who'll protect you when you're scared at night."

>Sophia accepts it as you offer it to her.

>She takes a moment to feel the fur against her own, and flicks the floppy ears a few times, getting familiar with her new friend.

>She looks back at you, but before she can ask anything, you pull out some more items.

>Coloring materials, building blocks, miniature cars...

>"I didn't really know what you might've wanted, so I made sure to pick out a good variety."

>"...It's all for me?"

>"You think I bought this for myself?" you chuckle lightly, though Sophia's serious demeanor doesn't let up. "Er, yes. It's all for you."

>Sophia takes a moment to study the new gifts.

>"Thank you, Anon..." she stares into the beady eyes of her rabbit. "You're always so nice to me... You don't need to be."

>A small sigh escapes you.

>"I meant what I said, Sophia. You're a good kid."

>Although nothing more is said, you could've sworn that you saw the wolf's typically immovable frown lift a tiny bit.

>

>Sophia had been much more adventurous today than ever, no longer restraining herself to the living room.

>Not that she does too much in these new territories. She just takes in the sights, experiencing some kind of freshness in something once thought prohibited of her.

>At least, that's what you surmise.

>It's hard to image exactly what she's thinking at any moment, clutching her rabbit in a tight hug.

>Not that the house is particularly dirty, but her wanderings have made you a little self-conscious of your abode.

>And since you don't have to worry about work today, you decide to do a bit of cleaning.

>You're in the middle of sweeping the kitchen when you hear a soft voice behind you.

>"E-Excuse me? Anon?"

>"Yes, Sophia?" You turn to face her, a little taken by surprise. She has a sheet of paper in her hands. Her eyes land on your broom.

>"Oh... Are you busy?" she's says, already taking a step back.

>"Not at all." you tell her. Sophia being the one to initiate conversation is definitely something you want to encourage. "Something on your mind?"

>"Ah, um... Did I..." after some apparent mental debate, Sophia flips the paper around and presents it to you. "Did I do this right?"

>On the paper, entirely in black crayon, is a very simplistic representation of a cat.

>The head consists of a circle, two triangles, dotted eyes, straight-line whiskers, and an upside-down "Y" for the mouth.

>The rest of the body, conversely drawn from a sideways perspective, is shaped like a teardrop with limbs and a tail.

>Above the artwork, the word "C  A  T" was carefully scribbled. The word specifically was what Sophia pointed to.

>"Does it say...."

>"Cat?" You finish for her, to which she nods. You smile. "I'm happy you remembered our lesson."

>"So I got it right?"

>"Absolutely."

>Sophia flips the paper back over to review the her craft.

>"Thank you," then, after a short pause. "...Will we do that again sometime?"

>"The lessons? Of course, as long as you want to keep doing them."

>"Yes, please."

>There's a sense of pride and overall joy residing within you.

>The feeling is stronger than you would've anticipated.

>You may be stuck with her for an unknown amount of time, but do you really mind?

>"Hey," you grab her attention. "I'm really proud of you."

>I might've been just your imagination, but you could've sworn the gray fur on her face shifted to a slightly redder hue.

>You present your palm for a high-five.

>She studies it for a bit, but eventually she carefully brings her hand up...

>...and grabs your own.

>You stifle a snicker at her misinterpretation, closing your hand.

>"...Are we going somewhere?" she asks, hand in yours.

>"No," you let go of her hand. "Thanks for sharing that with me. I'm very happy you've learned from our lesson."

>"Oh... You're welcome," she says bashfully.

>With nothing more to ask, Sophia turns the corner, out of sight.

>You go back to sweeping.

>It feels like you've found a piece of yourself you didn't realize you were missing...

>

>Once Sophia's dinner was ready, she thanked you before the two of you sat down at the table.

>Your sick day was coming to a close.

>"Sophia," you start. "Have you been feeling all right today?"

>She tilts her head at the question. "All right?"

>"I mean, after last night."

>"Oh." Rather than answer verbally, she nods her head.

>"Good. But you'll still tell me if you're worried about anything, will you?"

>No response.

>You don't like what the silence implies.

>"Is there something you're worried about?"

>"..."

>"Remember, nothing's gonna make me mad."

>"Um... H-How long am I staying here?" She pipes up.

>Does she... Does she want to leave?

>"I don't like being outside...."

>"Outside?"

>"It's cold. And I don't know anyone. A-And..." she doesn't finish the thought, but you catch her glancing at her food.

>You realize what she meant.

>"Listen, Sophia. I promise you, that's not going to happen to you again. You can stay as long as you need."

>Perhaps you hadn't phrased that right.

>She'll stay here until you can figure out how to get her into a caring family.

>Without, of course, allowing the authorities to find out you've been housing her without whatever qualifications are needed to do so.

>"...Thank you," she says simply. For a second it seemed like she was going to say more, but she doesn't.

>"Of course," you smile.

>

>You decide to go to bed earlier today. Partly for work, and partly to make up for lost sleep last night.

>Naturally, that meant Sophia had to go to bed earlier too. She didn't seem to mind.

>You tuck her in as she hugs the rabbit tight.

>You've told her to wake you up if she needed anything before, but it doesn't hurt to reinforce the statement.

>As you walk to bed, you think about the picture she drew.

>How she came to talk to you, rather than the inverse.

>And how she had actually applied what you had taught her.

>Something about it just makes you smile.

>You wake up early next morning to prepare for work.

>It was pleasant to get up from your bed rather than an armchair.

>Your back certainly thanks you for it.

>Though, you hope Sophia slept well too.

>Hopefully she didn't have any nightmares.

>Though if that was the case, she probably would have woken you up, just like what you told her she could do.

>Then again, that isn't really something you can count on, is it?

>While she seems to have grown a lot less hesitant to do pretty much anything, Sophia still isn't too outward.

>Quietly, you make your way down to perform a quick check on her.

>Looking around the corner, you see her asleep on the couch.

>Underneath the blankets, she's cuddled up on her side.

>No sleep talking this time.

>While she slumbers, you do your usual morning routine, just a bit quieter and avoiding turning on lights where you can.

>Once everything is all set, you return to the couch and lower yourself to your knees.

>Very gently, you nudge her shoulder.

>She stirs slightly, and one of her eyes squints open.

>Luckily, you're met with a sleepy groan rather than fearful hyperventilation.

>"Mmn...?"

>"Sophia."

>"...Yes...?" she groggily utters.

>"I just want to let you know I'm going to work," you explain.

>"You're...leaving?"

>"I'll be back in a couple hours."

>"...Oh."

>"I put your breakfast on the counter when you're ready, but you can sleep in a little longer if you want."

>"Mmn...okay."

>"Goodbye, Sophia. I'll see you later," you say as you stand back up.

>You turn to leave, but before you can, she utters something.

>"P... Promise?"

>"I promise."

>You wait a bit just in case she wants to say anything else.

>But it's not until you're about to walk out the door when you hear her sleepy voice again.

>"Good...bye...Anon."

>

>"You feeling better, Anon?" Jane asks.

>"Yeah, are you?" Greg joins in. "Not too worried about myself, but I got a kid at home, so it'd be nice to know."

>"I'm fine," you assure them. "I guarantee you, I'm all better."

>"Heh," Reita awkwardly chuckles. "Good news for me as your desk partner."

>You return a friendly-awkward chuckle of your own.

>A smile from Reita indicated she appreciated the gesture.

>"Can you even catch the same diseases as us?" Greg asks out of the blue.

>Reita's subtle grin flattens out again.

>"...Yes."

>"Ah."

>...

>Apparently, that's where the conversation will end.

>...

>Reita's the first to get back to work, breaking the silence with her keyboard.

>The rest of you follow suit.

>Greg and Jane casually begin another conversation amongst themselves.

>Reita, and the other hand, sits in silence.

>Her posture seems to have slumped a bit.

>You decide to make an effort...

>"So... Anything interesting happen yesterday?"

>"Oh?" She turns to you. "Not really. Nothing exciting ever really happens here, unfortunately."

>"Maybe that's not a bad thing, everything being so...normal."

>"Maybe not. I don't know, it's more of the same outside work."

>"I can't say the same."

>"Why not?"

>Shit.

>"Oh, uh... I'm helping with watching over my niece this week," you say.

>You probably could've come up with a better lie with more time, that was just the first thing that came to your head for some reason.

>"I have a baby nephew," she puts in. "Is your niece giving you any trouble?"

>"Not really. She's very shy, it's just that I don't have much experience with this sort of thing."

>"Well, as long as you give it your best effort, I'm sure nobody will fault you."

>"I suppose that is true."

>There's a pause in the conversation, and for a second, you assume it's over.

>"...It's good to see you back today, Anon."

>"Oh, you too."

>

>You return home during your lunch break, but not before picking up a couple of sandwiches.

>You still aren't 100% sure about anthro diets.

>According to the internet, anthros are omnivores like humans, but they still tend to have general preferences  befitting of their species.

>Is it true? Guess you'll be finding out now, when you give Sophia her chicken sandwich.

>You spent some extra money so she could have a larger sized sandwich.

>Partly to test the theory, but mostly because you feel she'd appreciate having too much to eat rather than too little.

>She's experienced too much of the latter.

>Before you can call for her, you hear her making her way over to you.

>By the sound of it, she was upstairs.

>It's comforting to know she stopped restricting herself to the living room.

>She makes it to your side before you know it.

>"Hi, Anon...." she greets.

>"Hey, Sophia," you smile. "I told you I'd be back. And I brought something you might like."

>You hold out her sandwich. I'm doing so, you realized she was already staring at it before you presented it.

>"It smells good," she puts simply.

>That's a good sign.

>In a couple small steps, she gently takes the meal as you offer it, sniffing the wrapper.

>"Come on, let's eat at the table," you offer.

>She nods without taking her eyes off her lunch.

>Once the two of you have settled at the table, you begin unwrapping your sandwich.

>You notice Sophia mimicking your movements in the corner of your eye.

>Once unwrapped, you take a bite out of yours.

>Decent. One of the better meals you've had since you got here.

>You're more concerned about how much Sophia will enjoy it. You turn just in time to see–

>CHOMP!

>The force of Sophia digging her teeth into her meal causes you to flinch.

>She rears her head back, ferally tearing off a large chunk.

>Before you can get over your surprise, she takes another huge bite.

>A few more, and it's gone.

>Dumbfounded, you look from where Sophia's sandwich once existed to your own, missing just one small piece.

>The way she devoured it was yet another reiteration that you haven't taken on the responsible for a human child, but a wolf.

>"U-Um, could I have a napkin, please? If that's okay?"

>You snap out of your thoughts.

>"Oh, of course," you reach into the sandwich bag and pull one out. "Here."

>"Thank you."

>"You, uh, ate that pretty fast," you say as she gently wipes her mouth. "Did you like it, or were you just hungry?"

>"Both," she answers, folding the napkin in half and setting it down. "...It was really good. Thank you, Anon."

>"I'm glad you liked it. Are you still hungry?"

>"...No."

>"You sure?"

>"...A little."

>You take your sandwich and split it in two, offering her the side without your bite mark.

>"Here, have some more."

>"Y-You don't have to...."

>"I don't mind. Really."

>"Won't you get hungry?"

>"I can grab a quick snack if I do," you assure her. "Go ahead."

>"...Okay," she decides after some hesitation, accepting your half. "Thank you."

>"Maybe you should take smaller bites this time. Savor the flavor," and not choke.

>"Okay."

>You watch as Sophia, as delicately as can be, brings the sandwich to her mouth, and takes the smallest possible nibble.

>An onlooker could've perceived that as snarky and rude.

>But you know it was completely genuine on her part, and you stifle a snicker.

>"So, Sophia," you start. "How are you doing here? When I'm gone?"

>"I'm good," she responds astutely and bluntly. "I don't do anything I'm not supposed to."

>"I meant more like... How're you feeling here when you're alone? Do you get bored, or nervous, or anything like that?"

>"N-Not at all! I like it here. There aren't any problems...."

>"Remember, Sophia, you can be honest with me."

>There's a pause as she shifts all of her focus to you.

>She stares a bit before her eyes look down to the table.

> "I... I get a little lonely when you leave...."

>All of the sudden, guilt hits your chest like a sledgehammer.

>You're not sure why that initial reaction felt so strong, but like hell it did.

>"Lonely? I'm sorry. That hadn't occurred to me," you say. "Would you...rather I stayed here?"

>"Y-you don't have to...."

>"But would you like that?"

>After some apparent hesitation, she nods.

>You ponder the situation for a bit.

>"I'm not sure I'll be able to spend a lot of time at home," you tell her. "But I'll see if I can find a way to be here more often."

>She's still staring down.

>"I..." she begins. "I-I'm sorry if I don't look happy ever. I really, really like it here. I promise. I'm j-just so confused...."

>"Confused?"

>"This place is so different. You're so different...."

>"It was a quick change, wasn't it?"

>"Mm-hm."

>"Well, this is a new experience for me, too," you tell her. "It's okay to feel confused. I don't know what I should be doing a lot of the time. But I don't regret what I did, and I'm happy you're here."

>"Me too."

>"I'm glad. We're in this together, so I don't want you feeling lonely."

>...Maybe now you realize why you felt so guilty earlier.

>"...C-Can I..." she turns to you, but doesn't finish her sentence.

>"Hm?"

>She looks away again.

>"N-Never mind."

>"What is it?"

>"It's n-nothing. Please forget it."

>She goes back to taking small nibbles of her sandwich.

>You can't help but feel slightly disappointed.

>She was opening up a little to you, but stopped herself.

>You won't pry, though. She'll tell you if she wants to.

>"All right, Sophie," you say. "Just remember that I won't get mad at you if there's something you want to say."

>Her eyes turn to you for a second.

>She stares for a bit, and nods.

>You give a friendly smile before getting in another bite of your own meal.

>

>You had been itching to get back home today. The reason wasn't unclear.

> "I... I get a little lonely when you leave...." kept echoing in your mind.

>Saying goodbye to Sophia after lunch didn't leave you with the best feeling.

>There wasn't a moment when you weren't wondering what Sophia was doing at any given moment.

>Probably not much, honestly.

>Still, there was a newfound guilt associated with leaving her by herself.

>You hope to make it up to her a little bit as you step into your house.

>"Hey Sophia, I'm back," you say.

>Sure enough, you hear her start to approach.

>By the direction Sophia came from, you guess she must've been in the living room.

>She isn't as hasty as she usually is, but she isn't sluggish either.

>"Hi, Anon," she greets, stopping three steps in front of you.

>"You know, you don't have to run over here every time I get home, if you don't want to."

>"Oh," she says. "...But, I can if I want?"

>"If you want? Of course," you answer. "So you're...happy to see me, then?"

>"Mm-hm," she nods.

>You get a warm feeling in your chest from hearing that, and you can't help but grin.

>"I'm glad to see you too," you tell her, reaching out to gently ruffle the top of her head.

>...Wait, why are you-

>"Hehe...!"

>...

>...Was that a giggle? From her?

>Sophia seems as surprised as you are, putting a palm to her mouth.

>She looks up to you, and slowly lowers her hand.

>"W-was that...annoying?"

>"Annoying?" you question. "Of course not. I'd love to hear your laughter more often. I've never heard it before."

>"...Me neither."

>...

>...She hasn't? Not once in her life?

>"That's... Sophia...." you aren't sure what to say.

>She doesn't seem to either, and the two of you hang in an awkward silence.

>Well, at the very least, that means her laugh right then was a pretty big milestone.

>And it was you who made her laugh.

>Which reminded you of your interrupted thought...

>You just decided to ruffle her hair without thinking about it.

>Your dad did that a lot to you when you were young.

>It gives an idea that...

>...No.

>That wouldn't work out. You're not someone who could fill that role, or at least, you wouldn't fill it well.

>...It's strange that you'd even casually consider-

>*Achoo!*

>You're brought out of your thoughts as Sophia uses her elbow to cover a sneeze.

>She's not sick is she?

>"Are you feeling okay? Have you been sneezing a lot?"

>"No. I think a little bit of hair fell on my nose," she answers.

>"You're sure?"

>"I think so."

>"Here, look up at me for a second."

>She does so without a word or hesitation, lifting her head to get a better look at you.

>"I'm gonna feel for a fever, all right?"

>"Oh...okay."

>You lift your hand and cup it over her forehead.

>It doesn't feel particularly hot... You don't think...

>It is covered in fur though, so your judgements are likely thrown off.

>You really hope she's not sick. You'd probably take her to a doctor, though given the current circumstances...

>Well, you'll have a lot of explaining to do.

>Regardless, you wouldn't want her to go without adequate medical care.

>"Well, let me know if you ever feel unwell, Okay?" you say, removing your hand.

>She nods.

>"Okay."

>You look around the room, at nothing in particular.

>"So, I was thinking about this evening, about what you said about feeling lonely," you start. "And I thought it might be good if we did something together. Like a game, or something."

>"Together?"

>Her ears seem to perk up slightly.

>"Yeah, if you'd like," you say, guiding her to the living room.

>You find that she neatly organized the toys you bought her on the couch.

>Maybe you should try something simple?

>"I don't know, maybe..." you scan the selection before taking a purple, medium-sized ball. "...Maybe you'd like to play catch?"

>Normally it would be a bad idea to do so indoors. But you don't have anything expensive hanging around.

>"S-Sure! I've seen other kids play before, but...."

>"You haven't played yourself?"

>"Not with anybody else."

>You take a moment to appreciate that your childhood was nothing like her's.

>"Well, why don't we try together?"

>"Y-Yeah!"

>The eagerness in her attitude caught your attention. It was something you hadn't seen in her before.

>"All right. I'll stand over here," you shift to a more open place in the room. "And how about you stand over there?"

>She got to where you were pointing before you even finished your sentence. Her pace looked to be more out of interest than obligation.

>"Ready?"

>"Mm-hm," she nods.

>You start off with a gentle underhanded pass, allowing for an easy catch.

>Sophia has no problems catching it. She uses both hands to snatch it out of the air.

>She peers at the ball, and then at you.

>"Nice catch," you praise. "Now-"

>Before you realize it, the ball has already left her hands.

>Your sentence is cut short when it collides into your chest with more force than you expected it to have.

>Despite that, you managed to catch it between your hands and body.

>Your weak grunt is quickly overshadowed by Sophia's sharp gasp.

>"I'm sorry!" She cries. "I didn't mean...! I-I didn't mean–

>"Sophia."

>"–to h-hit you! W-When I throw it at a wall–"

>"Sophie."

>"–if I didn't throw hard e-enough, it wouldn't bounce back to–"

>"Sophia!"

>She freezes up entirely at that.

>"I'm not hurt," you assure her. "It's just a ball. I'm not mad."

>"Oh..." she stares down. From embarrassment or sadness, you couldn't really tell.

>Probably both.

>"Come on, Sophia. How are you going to catch the ball if you keep looking down like that?"

>She peers back up as you give an encouraging smile.

>You toss it again, and she catches it just as easily as before.

>Sophia looks at the ball, then at you.

>"Are... Are you ready?"

>"Yeah, go ahead and throw it to me."

>"Okay...."

>She holds up the ball, taking a moment to rotate it in her grip, as if she's expecting to find anything more than a solid purple.

>With careful, unconfident consideration, she brings her arm back before throwing the ball at you.

>Well, less like a throw. More like a weak push through the air.

>The ball hits the ground halfway between the two of you and bounces to your feet.

>"I'm not good at this..." Sophia remarks. "Maybe we should stop."

>"Don't beat yourself up, Sophia. You just need to find a good medium," you say as you pick up the ball. "Just...watch what I do."

>Before tossing it back, you take some extra time to better demonstrate another simple underhanded toss.

>Once again, Sophia has an easy time catching it.

>"Now you try."

>"Okay...."

>She grips the ball as you did, and attempts to imitate the motion you had shown her.

>She repeats a few practice movements, getting a feeling for the heft of the ball and the force she'll release it with.

>When she lets go, the ball sails a leisurely arc in your direction.

>Still, it hits the ground before it reaches you. However it made it much farther that go.

>"That's better! You've almost got it," you tell her before you toss the ball back again.

>As you watch her try again, you notice she seems to have regained a bit of her enthusiasm.

>She throws with more force, and the ball perfectly makes its way from her hands to yours.

>"See? You've got it," you smile. "You still want to stop?"

>She shakes her head. "No, please."

>"That's good. Would've been a shame to stop it there."

>The two of you begin a steady back-and-forth.

>It was a very simple game, of course, but Sophia became less and less rigid as you went along.

>Her energy also appeared to increase with every successful catch and throw, especially after you acknowledged them.

>As you happily noted to yourself, her usually stoic muzzle eventually rested into a subtle grin.

>You also noticed...some sort of noise? Something like a soft sweeping sound.

>As you try to listen for it, the sound stops.

>"Anon...?" Sophia says bashfully, holding on to the ball. Again, she begins to study it from all angles.

>You've been around her long enough to guess she's trying to avoid eye-contact.

>"Yes? Is something wrong?"

>"C-Could I...?" She stops herself. "...You said that I shouldn't be scared if..."

>"If you have something you wanted to say?"

>"Yeah... I, um... Could I ask for something?"

>Ask for something? You ponder what that could be.

>"Well, of course," you tell her. "What is it you want?"

>"C-Can I get..." her shoulders begin to tense, as if she's preparing for rejection. "Can I h-have...."

>...

>"...A h-hug?"

>A hug?

>"I-I always saw other kids getting hugged by their m-mom or d...dad," she stutters. "Y-you hugged me after I had a b-bad dream, and made me feel better. But I d-don't want it to be the only time...."

>Hearing Sophia's quivering voice... You're feeling that strong sense of responsibility again.

>"Sophia..." you say, starting to approach her.

>She stands completely locked in place. She's not even rotating the ball anymore, just staring at one spot.

>You get down to her level, about two feet apart...

>...and you hold your arms open.

>Sophia finally peers away from the ball, looking at your invitation.

>She gently lies the ball on the ground, and then turns fully to you.

>"You... You're okay with that...?" She timidly asks.

>"What do you think I'm doing this for?" You say with your arms still out and a welcoming smile.

>"...It's really okay?"

>"Of course. Now are you going to leave me hanging, or–Oouf!"

>Your sentence is cut short as Sophia runs into your arms like a crash test dummy.

>That...definitely hurt more than the ball. But frankly, you don't really care. You're glad she was able to muster up the courage.

>Sophia's holding you tight, wrapping her arms around your torso.

>Her head finds its place over your shoulder and half nuzzled into your neck. Her fur tickles a little.

>You hug her back tightly in turn, being as reciprocal as appropriate.

>"Thank you, Anon," you hear. "You... You're always so nice to me...."

>"You deserve kindness," you tell her. "I'll be happy to give you a hug anytime you want."

>"Th-Tha... Thank you...so much..." you feel a drop of water trickle onto your neck.

>She...

>She really needed this.

>The poor kid.

>You don't think of yourself as a heavenly saint or anything.

>But at this moment, as the young wolf clings to you like the world would end if she let go, you realize just how big of an impact you've had on her life.

>You never thought you could be that kind of person to anyone.

>It's a weird feeling.

>No, it's a lot of feelings.

>But all-in-all, you're so happy you decided to help her.

>Though, it all becomes bittersweet when you imagine that once everything gets sorted out, you'll be seeing her a lot less, if at all.

>You hope she'll be just as happy with her new family when the time comes.

>...

>You realize that sweeping sound from before started up again. It sounds very close this time.

>It's...coming from Sophia?

>You notice the back her dress moving slightly.

>She's wagging her tail.

***

>You really don't have any idea how long Sophia is going to be staying with you.

>It's a thought that's been crossing your mind a lot lately.

>As far as you can tell, it's going to be a while before you can figure something out.

>Because of that, you feel it's even more important that she's comfortable in your home.

>The clothes and toys you've gifted her, as well as your interactions with her in general, have been a testament towards your efforts to keep her as comfortable here as you can.

>However, there was one exception that became increasingly more obvious with every passing day.

>Or rather, every passing night...

>She still slept on your couch.

>It was an arrangement you hadn't put too much thought into at first. You brought her in to your home suddenly, and you didn't have a guest bed, so the couch was the next comfiest thing.

>Well, other than your own bed.

>It makes you feel a bit guilty. Maybe you should have slept on the couch while she got the bed.

>Regardless, you're fixing that issue today, bringing in a flat, wide bag of a yet-to-be-assembled bed frame.

>There's a room upstairs that you were using for storage. You don't have too much to store, so it didn't take long to clear out.

>"What's that?" You hear as you get to the base of the staircase. You turn to see Sophia, her eyes focusing on the bag you're holding.

>"Oh, Sophia. It's... It's a surprise," you decide.

>"A surprise?"

>"Yep. You don't mind staying downstairs for a little while, do you?"

>"No."

>"Alright, I'll tell you when it's ready."

>She nods, and manages to pry her curious eyes from the bag.

>She steps out of sight, and you continue upstairs.

>Once in the empty room, you open up the bag and lay out its contents as neatly as you can.

>It's mostly a metal frame, which'll be pieced together through nuts and bolts. The mattress will also rest upon wooden planks.

>Assembly shouldn't be hard. It looks easy enough to understand at a glance. Each piece is numbered and listed on a small pamphlet.

>You get to work, not wanting to leave Sophia in suspense for too long.

>As you go down the numbers, assembling the frame piece by piece, you think about how far this is escalating.

>You went out on basically a whim to find her, and somehow you did.

>You hadn't imagined she'd have stayed here long, but here you are building a bed for her.

>The two of you have learned more about each other as the days progress.

>It was obvious she hasn't had an ideal life just based on how you found her.

>But actually seeing how she acts and reacts to being in your home has given you even more perspective.

>She deserves better, and you hope you can get her there.

>Once you've gotten the final piece screwed on, you move the frame to the corner of the room.

>All right, time to get the mattress.

 >It's gonna be a bitch to carry in alone.

>You opted to take it through the front door, as that route had least corners to turn.

>But first, you peek into the living room, finding Sophia on the couch, playing with her stuffed rabbit. Though she shifted her attention to you as you came from around the corner.

>As long as she stayed here, nobody would be able to see her while you left the front door open.

>You don't like having to keep her hidden in your house, but you're still scared someone might misread your good intentions in providing housing for a homeless little girl until you can find her a permanent home.

>If anyone saw a young anthro in your house, that'd certainly draw some attention. You don't know what would happen next, but you aren't convinced it'd be good for you or Sophia.

>"Hey, Sophie," you say, "I'm going to leave the front door open for a minute or two, so do you mind staying here for a little while?"

>"Okay," she nods. "...Is something wrong outside?"

>Would it be a good idea to tell her your worries?

>"...No, don't worry about it. It's...to not spoil the surprise," you tell her. "So you can play around here, but just don't go near the front door for a bit. Until I say so.

>"I won't," she affirms. "I promise."

>"Thank you," you smile, before ducking out of the room.

>In the trunk of the car, laying on top of the folded backseats, is the mattress.

>It's a little smaller than most, but Sophia isn't exactly huge (Though you briefly wonder how big wolf anthros normally get).

>Still, it's not going to be an easy carry alone.

>You do your best to tuck it under your arm, using your other to support it.

>With a strained grunt, you managed to lift the mattress and keep an awkward-but-sufficient hold.

>With the mattress in hand, you begin your walk through the front door.

>Sophia did as she was told, and wasn't there to see you bring in the vital part of her new bed.

>Getting upstairs makes you slightly nervous of dropping it, or even falling backwards yourself.

>You reach the top just fine, however.

>You set the mattress down at the top of the staircase to quickly head back down and shut the front door.

>Getting the mattress on the bed is as simple as lying on the frame.

>From there, all you need to do is make the bed with blankets and pillows.

>You try to do so as neatly as possible. When you're done, there's not a crease to be found.

>Taking a step back, you evaluate your work.

>It's a modest bed, and it looks a little strange being the only object of interest of the room, but it'll definitely be better than the couch.

>The covers are a deep blue, with a yellow crescent pattern. They'll match her pajamas.

>Time for the big reveal, you suppose.

>You find Sophia, still in the living room.

>She's quicker to notice you compared to last time.

>"All right, the surprise is ready," you say.

>In a moment's notice, she's at your side like a duck that just hatched.

>"What kind of surprise is it?" She asks.

>"Wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you, wouldn't it?"

>"Oh... Yeah."

>"Follow me so I can show you it instead."

>She nods, and the two of you make your way upstairs.

>You stand by the door to the room with her new bed.

>Sophia watches as you grab hold of the handle.

>With a little presentational flair, you push the door open and gesture for Sophia to enter.

>"Thank you," she says to you politely as she walks in. You step in after her.

>Once inside, you stand by Sophia's side, getting roughly the same view as her's to the big surprise.

>...It sure is a bed all right.

>Thinking about it, you hope you weren't setting Sophia's expectations too high.

>"I was thinking that you'd be tired of sleeping on the couch by now," you tell her. "So I got this set up for you."

>You turn your eyes from the bed to Sophia.

>She's staring, wide-eyed, at it. As if she were looking over the view atop Mount Everest.

>She opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself.

>Instead, she turns to you.

>"Can I...have another hug?" She asks.

>"Oh? Of course," you answer, turning to her and opening your arms.

>You're much more prepared this time, as Sophia dashes into your embrace.

>Sophia holds onto you tightly, likely giving the strongest hug she could muster.

>"Thank you, Anon," she says as she lets go.

>"Of course. Why don't you get a feel for it?" You suggest.

>Sophia nods and walks over to the bed.

>She gently places one paw on top of the covers, then the other.

>You watch as she pushes down against the mattress a few times, feeling how her paws press into it.

>Sophia then twists her body and sits on the bed, legs hanging off of the side.

>"How does it feel?" You ask, getting closer so you could press your fingers against the mattress. "If you think it's too hard, I could get a better one. It wouldn't be a problem."

>"It's really comfy," she answers as she rotates and leans back to lie down.

>"Is it better than the couch?"

>"Mm-hm."

>"That's good. I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner."

>Sophia sits up and looks at you.

>"No, it's okay," she tells you. "The couch wasn't bad. It was better than...I mean..." she stops herself.

>"Better than?"

>Her eyes drift down.

>"...T-Than before."

>"Oh," you think you understand. "You don't have to talk about that if you don't want to."

>"..."

>Sophia doesn't say anything, just starting wordlessly at the floor as she sits on the bed.

>This was supposed to be a happy moment for her...

>You turn around and take a seat next to her, nearly sitting shoulder to shoulder.

>Still, her gaze doesn't move.

>"I know that things were difficult for you before. If at any point you want someone to talk to about it, I'll be here," you say. "If not, that's fine too. Whatever you're comfortable with."

>Sophia stays silent for a few seconds.

>"...You're so different from them. I... I can be the one who speaks first, and you won't yell at me," she says.

>Your heart sinks a little.

>"And I never will. That's not a reason to get mad at all. It's not normal," you assure her. "I know I've said this a lot, but I really want you to understand that you're not a bad kid."

>Even still, Sophia stares downward. She drags a finger across the sheets.

>"T-They didn't have very many beds. Good kids got to take turns...for who got one," she reminisced. "...I always slept on the floor."

>Deep inside, you feel a flash of anger for the people who made Sophia feel worthless.

>But you quickly stuff it out. Getting angry isn't going to help her feel better.

>Before you've realized it, you're gently rubbing her back in a comforting manner.

>"Those days are over. You won't have to sleep on the ground again."

>"...I-It's just so weird..."

>"Weird?"

>"Everything here is so nice. You're so nice. I don't know what I should be doing here."

>"What you should be doing? Sophia, you don't need to do anything for me. I'm not going to kick you out."

>"I don't want you to think I'm...u-useless," she quivers. "I can do chores."

>"I don't think you're useless. You don't need to do any work around here."

>She pauses for a second, thinking.

>"I... I want to," she affirms. "Because you helped me, I want to h-help you too. S-So you know I'm thankful."

>"Aw, Sophia..." you're a little unsure what to say, but you are sure her sentiment touched you. "Really, you don't need to prove that to me. But, if it will make you feel better to help around the house, I suppose I could come up with something for you."

>"Really?"

>"Only if you really want to."

>She nods.

>"I promise I'll do a good job...!" She says with a fresh hint of enthusiasm.

>You smile at her slight burst of confidence. Maybe this will be good for her.

>You can't help but ruffle her hair.

>"I know you will," you say as you manage to get a soft giggle out of her.

>The sound of her laughter is definitely something you hope to hear more often.

>"Thank you, Anon," she says, now smiling herself. It was a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless.

>"Of course," you say as you stand up from the bed.

>Briefly, you look around the mostly empty room.

>"I suppose this will be your room while you stay here. We could move your stuff here," you begin.

>However, you're interrupted by the sound of your ringing phone.

>"Oh, sorry Sophia. I need to take this," you tell her.

>"Okay," she nods. Her gaze holds a twinkle of curiosity as you step out of the room.

>...

>It's your dad.

>When was the last time you spoke with your parents?

>You've been so focused on Sophia...

>You answer the phone as you walk downstairs.

>"Hey, Dad."

>"Hey, Anon! Did I help you find your phone?"

>"I know, I'm sorry. I've just been a little busy. I promise I'll call more often."

>"I'm just pulling your leg. Not that I wouldn't want you to call more often...."

>"I hear you. I hear you."

>"So how are things? You doing all right over there?"

>"Yeah, I'm doing well. Like I said, things have been a little busy, but I'm getting into the swing of things," you tell him. "Oh, could I ask you something?"

>"No," he answers, before chuckling. "Of course you can! You're my son, why do you need to ask for permission?"

>"Oh, well, uh..." you aren't too sure how you should phrase this. In the brief time you take to get your thoughts started, you take a few more steps away from Sophia's room. "I never really met any anthros growing up. Neither you or Mom seemed to talk about them very much."

>"..."

>"But on the occasions you did, I kind of got the impression that you two didn't... Uh, that you weren't very comfortable speaking about them."

>"Do you work with some?"

>"...Yeah. That's why I wanted to ask and...set the record straight. Do you... How do you feel about them?"

>There's a brief pause before he responds.

>"Anon, listen," he starts. "There's a lot of differences between anthros and you and I. Anthros are part animal, obviously. But it's not only the looks. They've got animal instincts too, you know? They're a little more, let's say, unruly than us."

>"..."

>"I'm not necessarily telling you to avoid them, that's probably impossible where you are. Just to...keep an eye out. You know? Be cautious."

>"...Oh."

>Before either of you could get another word in, a new voice butts in.

>It's Mom.

>"Danny! Did you call Anon and not tell me?!"

>"Because you'd take over and talk his ear off until he's too tired to talk to me again."

>"Oh, I don't do that!"

>"Hey Mom."

>"Hi Anon! Oh, there's so much I want to ask you!"

>

>"I promise I'll call you soon," you tell them after an hour of them asking you about how things are where you are.

>"Buh-bye Anon! Please don't hesitate!"

>"Good luck out there, Anon. Remember, be careful!"

>"Love you, bye."

>You hang up.

>That conversation took a lot out of you.

>It's not like you're unused to long conversations with your parents like that.

>But hearing your dad talk about anthros made you a little uncomfortable, and that sat in the back of your mind for the entire call.

>What would they say if they knew about Sophia? Should you have told them?

>Well, they don't really need to know, do they? Sophia will be gone after you find her a home.

>Though, under current circumstances, that still could take a while. You still have no idea how to go about it.

>You know your parents are going to want to visit sometime. Will Sophia be gone by then?

>...

>There's something about these thoughts that doesn't sit well with you.

>It's probably not the best idea, but you decide to just not think about the potential problems with your parents for now.

>Instead you make your way back up to Sophia's room.

>What you find inside makes you smile.

>Sophia, having tucked herself into her new bed, with the covers rising and falling in tandem to her breathing.

>She must've wanted to test out the bed with a nap.

>You don't see what your dad meant about animalistic tendencies.

>Sophia couldn't hurt a fly.

>...Well, thinking back to how hard she tore into that sandwich you bought for her, she probably could hurt a lot more than flies....

>Sophia couldn't bring herself to hurt a fly. There, that's better.

>You take the time to head downstairs and grab an unused bin.

>After you've made your way to the living room, you pack up all her toys as neatly as you can.

>Trying to do so quietly, you make your way back into the room, and set the toy-filled bin in the corner.

>You take another look at Sophia, curled up on her side, before flicking off the light.

>"Hey Sophia. Did you have a good nap?" You ask as you see the slightly drowsy wolf approach you. Her fur now a little messy.

>You're in the kitchen, sweeping the floor again.

>"Mm-hm," she responds, rubbing an eye with the back of her hand.

>"That's good. So the bed was comfortable then?"

>"Yes. I didn't mean to fall asleep, but it was so soft..." Her eyes focus on your broom. "...Can I help?"

>"Help?" Oh yeah, she did say she wanted to help around the house. "Yeah. There's a dust pan and sweeper underneath the sink. If you could get the piles I've swept up, I'd be very thankful. Be careful where you step."

>"Okay," Sophia nods, dutifully making her way to the sink, while also being cautious not to step in any piles of dust, crumbs, and fur.

>Sweeping the kitchen isn't going to take long. You haven't really prepared anything messy recently.

>Sophia gets right to work, go from pile to pile.

>Her sweeping is incredibly thorough, perhaps unnecessarily so. It's as if she wants to make sure she doesn't miss a single speck.

>You're basically leading her through the kitchen, as she follows the trail of dust piles you sweep. She often seems to be just a step or two behind you.

>Before long, the two of you had scoured the entire kitchen floor.

>"Looks like we're done," you say as Sophia finishes up the last pile.

>After the broom, sweeper, and dustpan are put away, you walk over to Sophia.

>"Nice work, Sophie. Thank you for the help," you tell her, bending down slightly and holding your palm out.

>"I did good? I didn't miss a spot, or anything?" she asks, peering at your hand before putting a paw on it.

>You give her hand a gentle squeeze. Her fur is comfortingly warm.

>"You did great."

>"...Thank you," she says a slight bit timidly.

>You let go of her hand.

>"So, now that that's done, what do you want to do?"

>"Um..." she ponders. "...I don't know."

>"We could play another game together. Or we could start another reading lesson," you suggest.

>"Reading lessons? I...I'd really like that," she answers with hints of both excitement and nervousness.

>"All right. I'll need to set some things up first," you tell her.

>"Okay. ...Thank you."

>"Of course. I'm happy you're eager to learn," you say. "Why don't you go play while I get it ready?"

>She gently nods, and the two of you part.

>While Sophia heads to her new room, you head to your own.

>You open a drawer and take out some papers you used for the previous lesson.

>You also retrieve your laptop.

>It probably wouldn't be too hard to just find some educational video online and sit her down in front of it, and you could do whatever.

>It had crossed your mind a few times before, but ultimately you decided against it.

>Or at least, decided against relying exclusively on that.

>You wanted to be with her as she learned.

>You can't be certain how effective any video is without being there.

>That, and it was surprisingly difficult to find suitable material.

>Most of the results assumed the child was at the earliest age it'd be reasonable to start. Extremely kiddie stuff.

>Honestly you still aren't sure exactly how old Sophia is, but she's probably over twice the age those videos are intended for.

>You don't know if she'd be embarrassed by them or not, so you'll just continue teaching her yourself for now.

>However, you did manage to find a site that could be of some use.

>It was an interactive page of the alphabet, where clicking on or typing any of the letters plays their respective sounds.

>You've read from multiple sources that prioritizing phonetics is the best way to go about teaching a child how to read.

>With that in mind, you've got a better lesson planned than last time. Hopefully.

>With some empty sheets of paper and a marker, you write out letter combinations as clearly and organized as you can.

>After you feel you've written enough material, you're suddenly struck with a new idea.

>Getting our a completely blank sheet of paper, you write down an entire sentence with a number of different letters, and a few words that exceeded three letters.

>Sophia's probably not going to be able to read the whole thing after just this lesson. The sentence will act as a marker for her progress.

>Once everything is set, you head to Sophia's room.

>Entering, you see her by the toy bin.

>She had been playing with a toy truck, having placed her stuffed rabbit on top of it as she "drove" it around.

>But as soon as you arrived, she jolts up and looks at you.

>"Is it time?" She asks with quiet excitement. You can just make out the sound of her tail sweeping back and forth against her big orange dress.

>"It is," you answer with a smile, making your way over to the bed. "How about it we take the lesson here?"

>"Okay...!" Sophia nods before skittering over and taking a seat on the bed.

>You appreciate her enthusiasm, even if you can tell she's trying to mask it.

>You wonder if she thinks being to eager would annoy you.

>"So, I've written out a few things," you explain, taking a seat by Sophia's side, and setting your laptop on the other. "Now don't worry, I'm not expecting you to read this whole thing today..."

>You take out the paper with the sentence that's above her reading level.

>"...but I'm hoping that someday, you'll be able to read it by yourself."

>You show it to her, and she leans in to take a look.

>"Sophia is a good kid who deserves to be happy." It reads.

>"Is that... Is that my name?" She asks, pointing to the first word. "I think that's what my name looks like."

>"Oh, I didn't think you'd recognize it."

>"So... It's saying something about me?"

>Maybe you shouldn't have used her name. You want her curiosity to incentivize her learning, but...

>If she knows it's about her, but she can't read WHAT it's saying about her, you're worried she'll be much more anxious than curious.

>She probably doesn't have the highest opinion of herself...

>"Well, if you really can't wait to know what it says, I can tell you," you offer. It'd be easy to come up with another.

>"...It's okay. I'd like to learn how to read it on my own," she says softly.

>"That's good. I was thinking about keeping it in this room for you to look at every now and then."

>You set the paper aside, and grab another.

>"So, let's get on with the lesson. Do you remember what this says?"

>You show her the first sentence she ever read.

>"Um... It's..." she spends some time looking over it. "...A cat sat at a mat...?"

>"Perfect! So, that sentence has these letters in it," you show her A, C, S, T, and M. "Can you tell me what each letter makes individually?"

>You point to the A.

>"Ah."

>You nod and shift to the C.

>"...Cuh?"

>To the S.

>"Sss."

>The T.

>"...Tuh?"

>And finally, the M.

>"...Mmm?"

>"Good! You remembered them all correctly. I've put together a few combinations to help get it ingrained in your head."

>You move your hand down the sheet, leading her eyes to the new words.

>"So, with what you know, can you tell me what these words are? Sound out each letter if you get stuck."

>You point to the first word in the new section,  and one she should already by familiar with: "AT"

>"At," she answers quickly.

>"Good! But what happens when we add a 'C' in the middle?" You ask, pointing to the next word: "ACT"

>"U-Um..." Sophia's not as quick with this one.

>"Remember, you can sound each letter if you need to," you put in.

>"Ah...cuh...tuh," you can almost see the lightbulb that shines over her head. "Act!"

>"That's it! Now, how about this?"

>Her next word is "TACT."

>"Tuh...act," she tries. "...Tact?"

>"That's correct," you confirm.

>"Is that a word?" She asks.

>"Tact? Yeah. It means...being considerate in a tough situation. ...Or something along those lines."

>By the way Sophia stares at you, you can tell she doesn't understand completely.

>"Well, the important thing is, you were able to read the word, even if you didn't know what it meant. Let's keep going."

>You point to the first word in a new column: "MAT"

>"...That's mat."

>"Good. And this?"

>Her next word is "MASS."

>"Mah...sss..." she gives it some thought. "Massssss?"

>You lightly chuckle. Maybe she's got some snake in the family, you jokingly think.

>"You're not wrong, but you don't need to draw out the 'S' so much. 'Mass' works just fine."

>"Oh...."

>"Hey, it's okay. Some words are just like that. If you see two of the same letter together, usually you can just act like there's only one," you explain. "Now, since this one is 'mass,' can you get this one?"

>You point to "MAST."

>"...Mast?"

>"You got that one fast," you remark.

>"I...think I'm starting to get it," she says with the tiniest bit of confidence.

>"I think so too. But you won't be able to read many words if you only know five or six letters. So I'm going to start adding new ones in the mix."

>Sophia's eyes widen slightly.

>"Don't worry," you reassure her. "We'll take it slow. I'll add more letters gradually, once I feel you've got a good grasp on the current ones."

>"Oh... Okay..." she nods.

>"Let's try adding this letter..." you say, beginning to write it down.

>"B"

>"Oh, that's the second letter," she says. "I think it's called 'B'...?"

>"That's right," you say as you reach for your laptop. "Here, I've got a little tool that could help as we start adding letters."

>You open it up to the alphabet site you found.

>It definitely catches Sophia's eye.

>"Look, you were right," you tell her, pointing at the 'B' on screen. The second of the alphabet. "Go ahead and click on it."

>You extend your laptop to her.

>"You...want me to use your computer...?" She says, eyeing it as you hold it to her. "I-I don't want to break it...."

>"It's all right," you say. You're confident you could catch it if you noticed it slipping. Plus, the bed isn't very high off the ground, and the floor below is carpeted. "I'll catch it if it falls."

>"But I don't know how to use it. What if I break it because of that?" She asks, obviously nervous.

>"I know you won't break it. Here, let me show you all you need to do."

>You place the laptop on top of your lap,  and skootch slightly closer to her.

>You turn the laptop to face her slightly, and push it close to your knees.

>"Do you see this arrow?" You ask, pointing at the cursor on screen.

>"Mm-hm," she nods.

>"Now, place your finger here like this," you instruct as you point to and set your finger on the touchpad.

>After you lift your finger, Sophia replaces it with her own, though with an unnecessary amount of care and caution.

>You hover your hand over Sophia's.

>"Now keep an eye on that arrow. I'm going to guide your hand to show you how it moves."

>She gives a gentle nod, eyes focused on the cursor.

>You put your hand over Sophia's, once again feeling the warmth of her fur, and move it so that her finger slides upward across the touchpad.

>"See how it works?" You ask as you slide her hand downward, left and right.

>"...I-I think so."

>"All right, now try to move the arrow on the 'B' without my help," you tell her as you lift your hand off of hers.

>Her hand stays frozen for a second, but surely enough, she begins to move it up and left.

>The cursor inches forward towards the "B".

>Despite its speed, it somehow manages to pass by it, so it comes to a stop, and then starts backing up even slower than before.

>Still, in the end, the cursor rested upon the "B".

>"Good! Now, all you need to do..." you put your hand back over Sophia's again, "...is  to lightly press down on the touchpad."

>Gently, you press her hand downward.

>There's a barely audible click from it as enough force is supplied, and the pad gives slightly.

>Unfortunately, Sophia interpreted that as something more than a simple click, flinching at it and sliding her finger off the pad.

>The cursor was far off the "B" before the press was released, resulting in no sound.

>"I-I'm sorry! Did I b-break something...?!" She sputters, eyes wildly scanning the laptop for any sign of damage.

>"No no! Sophia, it's all right!" You try to calm her down. "That's supposed to happen."

>"It is...?"

>"Yeah, look."

>You reach for the laptop and move the cursor around. You click empty space a couple of times.

>"See? Nothing's broken."

>"O-Oh," she remarks, the fur on her face shifting a shade pinker... Or maybe it was the skin beneath. You couldn't really tell. "...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have freaked out...."

>"Don't sweat it. It's not a bad thing you want to be careful," you tell her. "Try clicking on the 'B' again."

>You watch as Sophia musters up the confidence to try again.

>Very delicately, she lies her finger on the touchpad, and slides to cursor back on the "B".

>After a slight hesitation, she presses down on the pad. It takes a second or two before she realizes she needs to release it too.

>"Buh."

>The sound from the laptop makes her flinch yet again.

>"...Th...That's the sound 'B' makes, right?" She asks.

>"It is. The idea is that as we add more letters, you can use this site if you don't know, or don't remember, the sound a letter makes," you explain.

>"Oh. I see."

>"So now that you know what sound 'B' makes, let's practice some words with it," you  shift your laptop closer to your body and reach for the next sheet of paper. "You'll start at the top."

>You hand the sheet to her, and point to the "AT" once it's in her grasp.

>"At," she answers.

>To the right, there was "BAT."

>"So that would be..." she ponders. "Buh...at. Bat."

>"You're making good progress," you tell her.

>"Really? Thank you," she bashfully responds before looking to the next word. "...Tuh ah...buh. ...Tab?"

>

>After an hour or so, Sophia's just about memorized B-G.

>"E" had given her a little bit of trouble. It makes you wonder if you should dedicate the next lesson entirely to vowels.

>Still, after help from you, the laptop, and sounding the letters out, you know a great amount of progress was made.

>You take the laptop and set it aside, then grab the papers and stack them together.

>"This seems like a good place to stop for now," you say. "Don't want to overload your brain or anything."

>"Aww... Okay." Even though she's disappointed you're ending it here, you can also tell she's a little burnt out.

>"You did very well, Sophie," you tell her as you stand up from the bed, stretching to her the cracks out of your back. "I really am proud of you."

>"...Do you mean it? You're proud...of me?"

>"Very."

>She doesn't do or say anything for a moment.

>Finally, she stands up from the bed, and peers at you.

>"C...Can I have a hug?"

>"Another one?"

>Her head dipped at your response, and you immediately regretted asking.

>"S-Sorry..." she utters, inching back slightly.

>"No no! It doesn't bother me!" You assure her. "It just surprised me a little."

>You're telling the truth. It's the second time today she's asked for one, and yet take you back a week and you'd never imagine she'd ask you for such a thing.

>To ask you for anything, for that matter.

>Maybe...she's starting to move past that phase defined by nothing but careful, silenced obedience.

>If she is, you want to be there to help.

>What didn't help was making her feel uncertain about wanting to reach out.

>She went from subtly eager to extremely hesitant all from one misunderstanding.

>She just stands there, looking as if she's lost.

>You need to fix this.

>Taking a step up to her, you lower yourself to her level.

>Sophia's still unsure if it's really okay to go in for a hug. So, you take care it for her.

>You reach over, and pull her into a gentle embrace.

>She accepts it, but doesn't return it.

>"...You don't have to do this if you don't want to..." she tells you.

>All of the sudden, an idea pops in your head. You go with it without thinking.

>You readjust your arms, and...

>"Hup...!"

>...lift her up.

>"Woah...!" Sophia spouts, caught off guard as she's lifted up to your height.

>In her surprise, she reaches around your back and holds on tight.

>There's no way you'd let her fall though.

>She sits on one arm, and the other on her back helps keep her in place.

>Still, she squeezes you as if her grip is the only thing keeping her from falling.

>It takes her a little bit, but eventually she unburies her muzzle from the side of your neck and cautiously looks around.

>"Believe me, Sophia," you start, "I'm never going to get annoyed if you want a hug."

>"..."

>"In fact, you don't even need to ask. ...Just make sure it's not on the stairs."

>Sophia still seems a little speechless from the lift, but you've gotten her full focus at this point.

>"Are...Are you really okay with that?" She manages after a moment.

>"Does it make you happy when I give you a hug?"

>"...Yes. A lot."

>"Well, it makes me happy too. So of course I'll be okay with it."

>"...I make you happy?"

>There's something about hearing that from her which makes you really stop and reflect.

>When you took her off the streets, you were only thinking about her safety. You hadn't put much thought at all about how the two of you'd interact.

>But now, you can hardly imagine how dull your time was without her.

>"Yes. You really, really do."

>"..."

>Sophia's response is to hug you tighter.

>You hug her back, as well as you can with her up in your arms.

>As you tuck Sophia in for the night, you can't help but notice how comfortably snug she is, curling up within the blankets.

>You definitely should have gotten her a bed sooner.

>"All good?" You ask.

>"Mm-hm."

>"Good. Remember, if you need anything, I'll be in the other room. Don't be afraid to wake me up."

"Good night, Anon."

"Sweet dreams, Sophie."

>With Sophia comfy in her new bed, you flick off the light switch, and leave her door just a crack open.

>Ever since the two of you had that talk earlier, you couldn't help but think about just how much she's impacted your life, despite the relatively short amount of time you've known her.

>She really does make you happy.

>You still have no idea how long she's staying with you, but...

>Maybe that isn't a bad thing.

***

>You're awoken by your alarm.

>You had set it a little quieter than usual, since Sophia's sleeping upstairs now too.

>Speaking of which, you take a quick peek into her room to make sure things are all right.

>She's sleeping soundly in her new bed.

>The rising and falling of the covers is accompanied with a very light snore.

>Witnessing it reminds you how crazy you were to shelter a homeless child in your own house.

>But you don't regret it.

>You want so much for her to have a happy life.

>Sure as hell, she deserved one after what she's been through.

>You think that, and you probably don't even know the half of it.

>You just know she was treated like a burden until it was ingrained in her head.

>She's just a kid...

>You step away from her door.

>Your mind is still in the same place as you prepare to leave for work.

>It's been long enough that you're pretty much used to having her around.

>You remember how nervous you were when you first brought her home.

>To be honest, you still are nervous. That's probably going to stay like that until she's gone.

>But you can deal with that.

>As scared as you are about messing something up, her presence in your life has been surprisingly positive.

>It's all so strange to you. You'd never  have imagined you'd enjoy anything like this.

>But here you are, letting her stay in your house.

>Paying for her food, clothes, and toys.

>Trying to teach her how to read.

>And just...wanting to make sure she's happy.

>Maybe, you'd enjoy being a...

>...

>...No.

>No, you're getting ahead of yourself.

>You wouldn't be a good one.

>...Well, Sophia did say you make her happy. She might think you're capable of it.

>...

>...No, that doesn't count.

>Sophia's had such a shit life that pretty much anyone who'd make an effort could make her happy.

>And chances are they'd do better than you. You're way out of your element here.

>She'd probably agree if she knew anyone decent to compare with you.

>Why are you even thinking about this?

>You attempt to clear your mind, and focus on more relevant thoughts.

>You decided today was going to be the day to talk with Ceight about working from home.

>It doesn't feel right to leave Sophia all alone for such large amounts of time.

>She's admitted to feeling lonely when you're gone.

>You want to minimize how long she's home alone as much as possible.

>The last thing you do before you leave the house is setting Sophia's breakfast on the table.

>"My kid made this for me," Greg answers Jane's inquiry about his new coffee mug.

>Painted on with a mix of red, green, and blue letters is the phrase "BEsT DAD EvER!!!"

>Random shapes and brush strokes pepper the white ceramic with no decipherable aim.

>At least, nothing you could recognize.

>"Isn't it adorable? Me and Amy took him to a little painting place a nearby. He decided he wanted to make both of us something."

>"What an artist," Jane responded. "What's that, a house?"

>You lean in a little to focus on the small, orange-brown splotch on the mug.

>"No, that's a truck. I think. Or, is the truck on the other side...?"

>"I think that's very cute," Reita puts in.

>"Yeah," he responds without turning to look at her.

>Sitting there, watching how mesmerized Greg is with the mug, you feel a strange impulse to ask a few things...

>"Hey, uh, this might sound like a weird question, but..." you preface, "...do you enjoy being a father?"

>Greg eyes you curiously.

>Maybe you could've worded that better.

>It didn't feel that your mind was completely with that question.

>"You thinking about having children, Anon?"

>"No, no. I'm not good with kids. But...I guess I'm a little curious about what it's like," you admit.

>"Hm," Greg's gaze relaxes. "Well yes, I do enjoy being a father. Very much. My kid's a bit of a handful, I'll tell you that, but it's a good handful. Get what I mean?"

>"I...think so."

>"It's a whole lot of work. But everything is always worth it," Greg's eyes shift back on the coffee mug as he lifts it to eye level.

>"I see."

>"My little guy is my entire world."

>You take a moment to think about what was said...before Jane cuts in.

>"Well, what about your wife?"

>"What?" Greg responds.

>"You said your kid was your 'entire world'. What does that make Amy?"

>"What kind of question...? She's also my entire world, of course."

>"Doesn't work that way. You can't have two worlds."

>"Jane, I know what I said. But I have no idea what you're going on about."

>"I just found it a little strange you didn't mention your wife with that. That's all."

>"Because Anon asked me what it's like being a father, not a husband!"

>"I don't know... Seems like it could've been a Freudian Slip."

>"You know that's all pseudoscience, right? Freud was a quack. Secondly, you didn't even use that right. Thirdly, can I ask what you're getting at? Because it sounds to me—"

>You turn to Reita and pass her a bewildered glance.

>She just looks back and returns a shrug.

>"They do that sometimes," she leans in to tell you, though she makes no effort to lower her voice.

>It doesn't matter. Greg and Jane are too preoccupied in their moderately contained back-and-forth to notice Reita's remark.

>"I think Jane just likes to tease him."

>"Huh. How, uh, how long do they usually do this for?"

>"It varies. Not too long, usually."

>"Hm."

>"So..." Reita begins. "How's taking care of your niece going?"

>"My niece...?" You remember as soon as you say that. "O-Oh, well, she's been doing all right."

>"Well, that's good to hear."

>"Yeah," you say. Then, after a brief pause, "She likes hugs a lot. It's really cute. She's super shy, but affectionate nonetheless."

>Wait, why are you continuing on this topic?

>It's a lie based on something you need to keep secret. The less you talk about it, the—

>"Aww," Reita fawns, which you briefly note being ironic with her being a deer and all. "How often did you get to see her before this?"

>"Oh, actually not at all. We were basically strangers at first."

>"Well, I'm happy she's gotten so attached to her uncle already."

>"Me too. It was very nerve racking at first, but it's nice. She's such a sweet little girl."

>"How old is she?"

>"Oh, uh...."

>Crap. What do you say?

>"Actually, now that you mention it, I don't think my brother ever told me exactly."

>"Really? That's strange."

>"Yeah. I'll, uh, have to ask him. Or her."

>"Well, about how old does she look? Do you know what grade she's in?"

>Shit, you desperately need to change the topic, else you'll be piling on lies until you can't keep track of them anymore.

>Why did you let it get this far?

>"Oh, before I forget. You got here before me. Do you know if Ceight is here? I need to discuss something with her."

>"Oh, Ceight? I think she's in her office," she says.

>"Thanks, Reita. I'll see her now. Sorry to, uh, leave you with these two," you nod your head to Greg and Jane, still in their nonsensical argument.

>"Oh, it's fine. I'm used to it."

>"See you in a bit," you say as you stand up and depart.

>After a few steps, you find yourself at the door to Ms. Ceight's office.

>You take a second to review the points you want to hit before you knock on the door.

"Come in."

>You open the door and step inside to her office.

>The giraffe lady turns from her computer as you enter.

>"Hello Anon. Why don't you take a seat?" She gestures to the chair in front of her desk, which you accept. "Is there something I can do for you?"

>"Yes. I just wanted to...ask something," you start. "How viable is working from home?"

>"Working from home? I hope none of your coworkers are giving you trouble."

>"No, no. Not at all. Everyone's great," you're quick to clear up. "It's...stuff at home. Something...big just popped up."

>"Oh. Nothing serious, I hope?"

>"No, nothing like that. And I should have started with this, but if I can't, there's really no problem. It's really not necessary, it'd just make things a little more manageable for me," you explain. "I guess I'm just asking if there're any times I can work from home that wouldn't be a problem. Again, there's no problem if there isn't."

>"Hmm. Well, I wouldn't want to pry into your business, but are you sure this is the best way to handle it?"

>"I have thought a lot about it, and that's how it seems to me."

>There's a short pause before Ceight responds.

>"I'm sure there's something I can work out for it. How much time do you need."

>"Well... I know this makes it more difficult, but I don't know when this...thing...will be over. I won't lie, it could be a while."

>Ceight gives it some more thought.

>"Well, Anon, if we were to change your  usual work schedule like that, I'd have to warn you that it would heavily impact your pay."

>"My pay?"

>"To ensure your productivity at home, most of what you make will have to be commission based. If you were more seasoned, it likely wouldn't be too much of a problem because I could trust you with more jobs. I hope you understand that you'll very likely be making less there than here. And I can't guarantee it will be very consistent either. Are you prepared to deal with that?"

>Are you?

>Money's not a very big problem for you, at least not currently.

>But the prospect definitely makes you nervous.

>Is it really necessary that you can be there for Sophia more often...?

>"Yes," you answer. "I'm prepared."

>"I see. Will you be needing a lot of time at home?"

>"As much as isn't a problem."

>"Well if you're sure, I'll check some things and see what I can do. I'll let you know the details, and we can continue from there."

>"Thank you. I really appreciate this."

>"Of course. If you have any more questions, feel free to let me know."

>After a quick handshake, you leave her office.

>Once you've closed the door behind you, you take a moment to process what this means.

>...This is probably a sign that you need to focus more on finding Sophia a good home.

>Despite how important that is, you've definitely been neglecting it.

>Not really intentionally. It just...keeps slipping your mind.

>Something about it just makes you feel...off.

>Regardless, you make your way back to Reita and the others, ready to continue your work.

>You got sandwiches again.

>Sophia seemed to really enjoy them last time, and you didn't have any other ideas.

>This time however, you bought an extra one for her.

>She evidentially had quite the appetite.

>As you step inside, you're greeted by familiar footsteps once again.

>Sure enough, you watch as a little wolf turns the corner and stops in front of you.

>She stares up at you.

>"Hi Anon...!" She greets.

>"Hey, Sophia!" You say back as you ruffle her hair. "Did you eat your breakfast?"

>She nods.

>"Mm-hm. Thank you," she says, before briefly turning to look in the direction of the kitchen. "...I washed my plate in the sink, too."

>"You did? That's very nice of you," you smile. "Thank you."

>"O-Oh. You're welcome...!"

>"Have you been all right while I was gone?"

>"Yes," she answers astutely.

>"Good, good. You hungry from some lunch?"

>"...A little bit," Sophia answers with her eyes laser focused on the sandwich bag.

>"All right, then. Let's eat."

>Together, the two of you walk through the kitchen and into the dining room.

>Sophia waits for you to pick a chair and sit down first, and then sits right next to you.

>She gives a quiet "thank you" as you hand her her meal.

>You expect her to tear through her sandwich after unwrapping it, but she sets it down instead.

>"Anon?"

>"Hmm? Something wrong?"

>"No. Nothing's wrong," she takes a short pause. "I want to say...thank you...again. For everything."

>"Oh? Of course, Sophie," you give her smile. "I appreciate you telling me that."

>"...You do?" Her eyes drift down for a second. "I-I...like your shirt."

>"My shirt...?" You look down at your plain business casual.

>It's just a gray button down shirt. No pattern or anything. At least, nothing in particular you'd think would catch a child's eye.

>"Uh...thanks."

>"...Your pants look good too."

>Your pants too? They're just blue jeans.

>"A-And your shoes."

>"...You know, if you were any other child, I might think you were trying to butter me up," you smirk, trying to express more amusement than confusion.

>"I-Is that bad?"

>"Don't worry. You aren't doing anything bad."

>"Oh."

>She doesn't say anything after that.

>Maybe you should've taken the compliments normally.

>"Uh, Sophia."

>She turns back to you.

>"Thanks for the nice words. I'm glad you think I look good in this."

>The sides of her mouth lift the slightest amount.

>With that, you get back to your sandwich. However, it's not even half a minute before Sophia speaks again.

>"I've been trying to p-practice reading with the papers you left," she informs you.

>"Really? That's great," You say. You had left some of the papers you used for her lessons in the living room for her to look over if she wanted. "Do you remember what I told you about 'E'?"

>"Um..." she gives it some thought. "One 'E' makes 'eh', two 'E's make 'eee'."

>"Exactly right," you tell her. Though, you still haven't taught her what an "E" tends to do at the end of a word. "We'll get to the end of the alphabet before you know it."

>"You think so...?"

>"You're a good student, and you're eager to learn. Really, the weight's on me trying to be a good teacher. If anything goes badly, that's my fault."

>"...I think you're a good teacher."

>You smirk.

>"I appreciate it, Sophie. But you don't really have anyone to compare me against, do you?"

>"Do I need to...?"

>...

>Something about that gave you an uneasy feeling.

>You're not sure how to answer her.

>"...Kinda, yeah," you say after some hesitation. "If... If you were tutored by a real teacher, you'd realize how much I've been fumbling around with this."

>"But...I still have learned stuff from you. Isn't that good enough?"

>"I... Maybe..." Now you're feeling more like "the Sophia" in this conversation.

>What's wrong with you? Why is this topic making you feel strange?

>Should you change the subject?

>"Hey, uh, Sophia. You seem really talkative today."

>"Yeah... D-Does it make you happy?"

>"Huh?"

>"You said before that...I make you happy," her voice picks up a slight tinge of nervousness. "I...I thought that i-if I talk to you more, that'd make you more happy...."

>You forget about whatever that feeling before was.

>It's entire replaced with adoration.

>How could somehow tell her she was a bad kid?

>You reach over and rustle her hair, something that's been feeling more normal each time you've done it, and watch some of her nervousness wash away into a happy grin.

>"You're a real good kid, you know that Sophie?"

>"...Thank you, Anon," she says sweetly.

>"I'm always happy to talk with you, Sophie. But I hope you aren't forcing yourself too far out of your comfort zone," you tell her. "Although I do like hearing you talk more, I only want that if you feel all right with it."

>She looks down for a bit.

>"...I am," she affirms. "It...feels nice...to speak whenever. I-I want to talk more, and not be so silent all the time...."

>"I'm glad. I'll always be willing to listen."

>Her grin widens, and her tail begins to sweep against her dress.

>Seeing how happy she's become...

>It's such a far cry from how she was when you first found her.

>You're really glad she wants to try conversing more.

>Partly because you'd imagine someone with her background might've picked up issues with social skills that may even persist to adulthood.

>So her desire to talk more is definitely something you want to encourage.

>But the other reason you're glad is that you just like talking with her.

>There's just something about talking with her that brings out a strange happiness in you.

>It feels somewhat like a friendship, but with a key difference that you can't quite describe.

>Whatever it is, you're glad it's there.

>"You haven't taken a single bite from your sandwich," you notice aloud. "Not hungry?"

>"Oh. I forgot," she glances at her sandwich, proceeding to pick it up. "I just...got distracted."

>You give her a smile before the two of you continue eating.

>Despite the fact Sophia has an extra sandwich, she still finishes before you.

>Still, she keeps you company as you finish your lunch.

>When it's time to head back, Sophia unsurprisingly is there to see you off.

>"I'll be back in a few hours. Is there anything you need before I go?"

>"No," she answers, giving her head a little shake.

>"All right then, I'll see you later Sophie," you say as you turn to the door.

>"W-Wait...!"

>"Hm?"

>You stop and turn back, seeing Sophia nervously stand with her arms behind her back, gripping one wrist.

>"There is...something," she says meekly.

>You wait for her to tell you what that something is, but she doesn't.

>Instead, she takes a few careful steps up to you.

>Halfway there, she hesitates. But after a deep exhale, she presses on.

>You watch with amusement. You have a good idea on what's coming.

>Once she's within arm's reach, she peers up at you.

>For a moment, it looks like she's going to say something, but decides against it.

>She takes another deep breath, and...

>...leans forward into a hug.

>You did tell her she doesn't need to ask for a hug if she wanted one.

>The gesture gets a smile out of you, as you've come to notice many things about her do, and you do your best to lean down and return the hug.

>"Bye Anon...."

>"Goodbye Sophie."

>You give a few gentle pats on the back before the embrace is broken.

>What a cute kid. She really does like hugs.

>Driving back home, you keep replaying your conversation with Ceight in your mind.

>After considering some current and future goals and assets, she told you that it'd be possible for you to start working at home. Most work at least.

>At least one day a week, you'd need to go back. But even then, a whole lot of time has opened up for you.

>It was definitely relieving to hear.

>You don't like how long you've been leaving Sophia home alone.

>You know she feels lonely, but you've also come to wonder if she gets scared too.

>Is it possible she could have another panic attack while you're gone?

>You really don't like the thought of that.

>Someone her age definitely needs someone to lean on.

>As of now, you're the only person who can be that someone.

>And you want to do the best you possibly can in that regard, even if you're scared of messing something up.

>"I'm home," you call out as you step inside.

>"O-Oh...!" You hear from somewhere further in the house. "Hi, Anon...!"

>Unlike usual, Sophia doesn't make her way to see you.

>Odd, you think. But it's not like she's obligated or anything.

>You hang up your coat and kick off your shoes before heading in the direction of her voice.

>From the sound of it, it seemed she's currently in the living room.

>Sure enough, you find her there, on the couch with paper and crayons.

>Upon your arrival, she clutches the sheet to her chest.

>"H-Hi, Anon!" She repeats.

>"Hey Sophie. I've got some pretty good news."

>"Good news?"

>"Yep. I had a talk with my boss. In the future, I should be staying home a lot more often."

>She looks up at you, eyes widening slightly in awe.

>"Really...?"

>"Yep. I, uh, I shouldn't have been leaving you all by yourself for so long," you tell her. "You are just a kid, after all."

>"B-But... It doesn't... It's not..." she stammers. "I-It's not...bad for you?"

>"Bad for me?"

>"I don't want to...w-waste your time."

>"Sophie, listen," you begin. "It's my decision. I want to be here with you. It's the responsible thing to do in my position."

>Well, if "responsible" doesn't mean taking your chances with the authorities.

>"I-It is?"

>"It is. Like I said, you're just a kid. You need some kind of adult in your life. ...That cares about you."

>Some quick thinking made you feel that last part was necessary to add on.

>Sophia probably doesn't understand that a caring guardian should be the norm over...whatever she had before.

>And you're the only one on you know who can be that guardian.

>Currently, at least.

>"...What if... D-Don't you have more important stuff?" She questions softly.

>You think about it, and...

>"No."

>"N-No?"

>"Sophie..." you sit down on the couch with her, preparing to level with her. "You're a young girl. This isn't throwing out the trash, or sweeping the kitchen, or anything like that. Your needs ARE important. Even work isn't as important."

>Sophia looks down at her sheet of paper.

>There's some faded color bleeding through the other side, though you still can't make out what's drawn on it.

>Whatever it is, you can tell she used a lot of different colors.

>"...Y-You always say very nice things to me," she utters.

>"What I'm telling you is the truth, Sophia," you respond. "...Could you do me a favor?"

>Her head immediately pops up, and she nods intently.

>"Whoever took care..." you pause. "Whoever watched over you before me, forget them."

>"Forget them?"

>"Whatever they told you about yourself, forget it. They're wrong. Having that stuff in your head is only going to hurt you."

>"..."

>"They didn't deserve you."

>"..."

>Sophia looks away with an expression you can't read.

>Nervous? Hesitant? Thoughtful?

>There's traces of all of these, at least from the angle you see her at.

>"...Y-You think I'm a...good kid," despite the stutter, there's little emotion expressed through her tone.

>"You are."

>"W-What if... What if that changes...when I get older?"

>The deadpanned question unnerves you.

>Why she'd ask such a question, you're not sure.

>Probably the bastards who "took care" of her's fault.

>"Well...Sophie," you take some time figuring out how to respond. "That's...not something that just happens. There'd have to be some sort of...circumstance."

>"..."

>"But this is why you need an adult who actually cares about your development and future. Someone who, no matter what happens, is a person you can rely on."

>"...Like you?"

>All the sudden, with just those two words, it feels as if you've been placed on a tightrope.

>"Uh, well... I do care about you, Sophia. But..." you trail off.

>Sophia stares back at you expectantly.

>You clear your throat.

>"...I want what's in your best interest. Always. And the thing is, I'm not the kind of person who can give you your best future. My...role here...is to find the people who can."

>"...Oh."

>Sophia turns her head away.

>"..."

>You don't know if you should say more.

>You don't know if there's anything more you can say.

>It feels like there's something you need to tell her. But that's all that is. A feeling.

>And it doesn't feel right.

>"I'm...happy we'll get to spend more time together," Sophia says out of the blue, going back to the original topic.

>She peers down at the sheet of paper she's holding, before standing up and setting it down on the table.

>"I made that...for you," she says stiffly.

>"Oh?" You take the paper and look at it.

>Carefully drawn, evidentially using a plethora crayons, was a scene depicting a human and a little wolf.

>They're facing each other, but spaced a fair amount.

>Between them is a purple circle, with lines indicating it had been thrown by the wolf to the human.

>Both of them have wide smiles.

>The drawing makes you smile yourself.

>And she drew this for you, she said?

>"Aw, Sophia, this is—"

>...

>Looking up, you find her missing from the couch.

>You look around the room, but she seems to have left while you were studying her drawing.

>That's...weird.

>And how did you miss that?

>With how quiet everything got, you can hear her going up the staircase.

>Is she upset?

>...

>Did YOU make her upset?

>...

>That thought really doesn't sit well with you.

>Just the possibility of it makes you feel...

>...Unwell, to say the least.

>The very least.

>You make your way upstairs, and find Sophia in her room.

>She's tucked into her bed, facing the wall.

>"Sophia?" You say with a hint of concern. "Are you doing okay?"

>"...Yes," she answers. "...I got a little tired."

>"Tired...?" You question, taking a glance at the light switch that was still on. "It's not very late. You haven't even had dinner yet. You sure you don't feel sick, or anything?"

>"I'm okay."

>...

>The awkward silence between the two of you reminds you of your first couple of days with her.

>"Sophie, I loved the picture you drew," you tell her. "Us playing catch? That was a really great moment to recreate with your art."

>"Thank you," she says, tone not changing, still staring at the wall.

>Something definitely is wrong...

>You sigh.

>"Sophia... Is there something you want to tell me?"

>"..."

>"Did I say something to make you upset? Do you...want me to leave you alone?"

>She shifts slightly.

>"N-No. It's okay."

>More silence.

>You really aren't sure what to do.

>Before you can come up with something else to say, Sophia beats you to it.

>"H-How long will it take to find the people?" She asks.

>"Oh, well... I'll be honest, I'm not sure. It might take a while."

>"...What if you can't find anybody...?"

>If you can't find anybody?

>That...does seem to be a very real possibility.

>What would that mean for you?

>You're not going to be able to keep Sophia a secret forever.

>What happens to you if you're found out?

>What happens to Sophia?

>"I...don't know," you answer truthfully. "...But I'll keep trying to find you a good family."

>You hope that was reassuring.

>...

>*Sniff*

>...Was that...?

>"I-I'm going to miss you, Anon," she says before another sniffle. Her stoic tone breaking into a meek one.

>"Oh, Sophie..." you step over and kneel by her bedside. "C'mere."

>She adjusts herself and rolls to her other side to face you.

>You can finally see her tears.

>You hold your arms out, inviting her to your embrace. Something that's become a lot more common recently.

>Sophia slowly sits up on her bed, keeping her body turned towards you.

>You get a good look at her sad expression before she falls into your hug.

>She hugs you back tightly.

>And the two of you stay like that.

>The only noises coming from you gently rubbing Sophia's back, and her quiet sniffles.

>"You know, Sophie," you begin. "If I find people who can take good care of you, that doesn't mean we'll never see each other again."

>"..."

>"...And it's really for the best. Trust me, you'll be even happier with those people. Whoever I find, I'll make sure they're the best for you."

>"...O-Okay..." she utters.

>The hug continues for a good few more seconds.

>After it breaks, you hoped to see Sophia looking a little better.

>Her expression has changed...

>...but you don't think it qualifies as better.

>While she does look less sad, she now looks a little more...

>...Empty.

>"Hey, uh, you know... Since I'm going to be staying home much more now, we can play some more games together," you suggest, thinking back on her drawing.

>"That sounds fun," she responds after a pause, looking down at her blankets.

>"Are you...still feeling tired? Why don't you have dinner first? Or maybe a snack?"

>"...It's okay. I'm not hungry."

>"...Sure?"

>She nods lightly.

>You don't know if you should just let her go without dinner. She did have a pretty big lunch, but still...

>"I just want to sleep a little bit," she puts in. "I'll feel better after that."

>"Well... All right," you sigh.

>With that, she slinks back into her bed.

>You help her in straightening out her sheets.

>Once she's all tucked in, you hang by her light switch for a second.

>"...If you change your mind, I'll be here."

>"Okay," she responds. "...Goodnight, Anon."

>"Goodnight, Sophie."

>You flick off the light.

>As you step out of your room, you can't help but feel you've made some mistake.

>It eats at you, even if you don't understand it.

>And it doesn't leave for the rest of the day.

>

>Sitting in bed later that night, you've been staring at your laptop.

>The cursor has been blinking on the empty search bar for a few minutes by now.

>You promised Sophia you'd try to find the very best people to take her in.

>But...how?

>What's the plan? You can't send her to any group homes without running the risk of getting yourself caught.

>Should you try finding potential adopters individually?

>That might work, but what would they think of you?

>No doubt they'd question who you are and why she's been with you.

>And you have no power in making adoptions official.

>Maybe with enough communication, you can let them know the truth...?

>If they understand you're housing her because she has no where else to go, maybe they'll sympathize with you and let your contributions to her adoption be unknown?

>...It's still so risky.

>If a couple was looking to adopt, why would they go to some stranger without proper qualifications instead of the normal processes?

>Not to mention, you'd require that you'd get to know them as well. You're not handing Sophia off to just anybody.

>...Plus, that'd hopefully mean you'd get to visit her.

>Regardless, finding success with that plan doesn't seem likely either.

>...

>...Maybe you should just call the authorities?

>Just tell them the truth? Tell them you know what it looks like, and that's why you were scared to do so in the first place?

>Sophia herself would back you up.

>There's no evidence of any...

>...inappropriate actions...

>...because you're not a fucking creep who'd even think about doing that.

>Still, you'd hate that it would probably be one of their first assumptions.

>It'd also be something they'd need to look into thoroughly.

>But, even if everything were to go fine in that regard, could you trust they'd find a good place for Sophia?

>Whatever happened to the place she stayed at before ended up having her alone on the streets for days.

>You'd likely lose all control in finding her a good place to stay.

>...

>Your face slumps into your open palm, and you let out a deep sigh.

>Really. What are you going to do?

>It feels like you've reached a dead end.

>You're not going to go through with anything until you can be certain that Sophia will end up in the best place for her.

>Does that factor make this search impossible?

>...

>You stare at the cursor some more.

>Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink...

>...

>Later.

>With another sigh, you shut your laptop and set it aside.

>You'll figure this out later.

***

>You couldn't stop thinking about Sophia's little event yesterday.

>When you explained to her that you're looking for a family to take her in, she teared up at the thought of not seeing you after that.

>That made you feel bad enough itself. But...

>You had thought that a hug would make her feel better, but it only seemed to wipe any emotion from her.

>Which made you feel even worse.

>You can't describe how terrible it feels for even the possibly that you hurt her.

>Even though it eats at you, you let her sleep in before you left for work.

>Of course, with something like that on your mind, every minute seems to scrape by excruciatingly slow.

>"Hey, Anon?" Reita gets your attention, her eyes showing a hint of concern. "Are you doing okay?"

>"Oh? ...I'm fine," you respond. "Do I not look it?"

>"Well, you sort of appeared a little...out of it. Like you've got a lot on your mind."

>"And you've been as quiet as a mouse," Jane puts in.

>"Sorry guys. I guess I do have some stuff on my mind, but I'm fine."

>"What kind of stuff?"

>"Jane, come on," Greg steps in. "If he didn't specify it, it's probably personal stuff."

>"Does that apply to what you mentioned last week?"

>"I don't even remember what you're talking about. And don't have the energy right now to argue about it with you. I swear, the coffee machine broke right before I was able to use it."

>"Hey, it's all right. No need to worry, okay?" You say before Jane counters with anything.

>"Well, if you say so," she responds casually.

>With that, the bunch of you turn your focus back to work.

>Well, in your case, you try to.

>As brief as it was, that conversation did help to mitigate the feeling of drag that came with waiting for your lunch break.

>If only that exchange could have lasted a little longer. Any time you can get to distract your mind is appreciated.

>"So, Anon..." Reita begins, as if responding to your thoughts. "You're going to be working from home?"

>"Oh, yeah. It's not gonna be a permanent thing. It's just to help me manage some stuff back home."

>"I see," she pauses for a moment. "Do you know how long that will take?"

>"I don't," you admit. "I'd hope it won't be long, but... Well, it could take a while."

>"Hmm," she makes out. After a bit, you don't think she was going to follow up with anything. "I'll miss having you around."

>"You'll miss me?"

>"I mean..." she lowers her voice. "...It's nice to have someone to talk to."

>You take a sideways glance to Greg and Jane.

>Reita seems to have caught your eye, but only responds with a the light shake of her head.

>It's a little lost on you, but it's probably not a good idea to try to go any further with Greg and Jane in earshot.

>"Well, I'm not going to be totally gone," you tell her. "At the very least, I need to be here every Tuesday."

>"Well, that's nice to hear," she responds. "Whatever it is you need more time to focus on, I hope it goes smoothly for you."

>"Oh, thank you. Here's to hoping."

>"To hoping," she grins at you, raising her coffee mug.

>You smirk, stifling a chuckle.

>"...Am I missing out on something?" Greg cuts in confusedly, eyes shifting between you and Reita.

>"What do you mean?" You ask. "We're just...talking."

>"Hm. I see. Forget I asked," he says before directing his attention elsewhere.

>You And Reita look back at each other.

>You just give a weak shrug, but she looks a little...out of it.

>"...You all right, Reita?"

>"Hm?" Her expression returns to normal. "Yes, I'm good."

>Maybe it was nothing.

>"Hey, uh..." you begin, wanting to continue a conversation with her and help pass the time. "...you said you had a nephew. I've told you a bit about my niece, but you haven't said much about your nephew."

>"My nephew? Well, sure," she responds. "...I don't think this is the most flattering thing to start with, but he sure came as a surprise to everyone. My sister definitely wasn't planning on him. But they couldn't be happier..."

>All though your worry for Sophia stays lingering in the back of your mind, talking with Reita certainly helped keeping it from being the only thing you could think about.

>

>Once you finally got to leave, you hurried back home as quick as you could.

>Obviously, your mind is focusing entirely on Sophia at this point.

>She said that she'd feel better after some sleep, but you can't help but be a little doubtful.

>"I'm tired" is the cliche mask for "I'm not fine, but I'm trying to avoid talking about it."

>You plan to really get down to it if she still looks either sad or...just blank.

>If it's something you said or did, then you owe it to her to clear up any misunderstandings.

>All you want us for her to be happy.

>Being the reason that she isn't hurts to even think about.

>"Hey, uh, Sophie," you call out as you step inside. "I'm back."

>The pessimistic side of you assumed there'd be no immediate response.

>"Hi Anon!" You hear back, along with the hurried footsteps of padded feet coming toward your direction.

>Before you can even see her, you breathe a sigh of relief.

>As regular as it is for Sophia to rush to greet you getting back, it was definitely comforting to see at this particular moment.

>As you turn a corner and see her approach, you take note on how she doesn't appear any different from how she usually looked in the past few days.

>No differences that implied she was upset.

>Really, the only new thing you could tell about Sophia was that she ended this particular dash to you with a hug.

>You gratefully returned it, of course.

>"Hey, Sophia! Are you doing all right?"

>"Mm-hm!" She responds as she pulls away and looks up at you.

>You get a good look at her expression.

>She doesn't appear to be upset or anything.

>In fact, she seems quite a bit peppy.

>Though that subtle cheerfulness begins to morph to confusion as you continue to scan for any signs of how she appeared yesterday.

>"...Anon?"

>"Oh. Sorry," you say, clearing your head a little. "It's just, uh, are you feeling better?"

>"I'm better," she answers. "I'm not tired anymore."

>"Well, that's good. But it seemed like there was...something more to it."

>"...?" She looks at you inquisitively.

>You don't know if you should be pushing the subject.

>She seems happy enough right now. Are you jeopardizing that?

>"...Sophia," you start. "...Is there anything you want to tell me?"

>"...Tell you?" Her eyes begin to drift away from you.

>"The last thing I want is for you to be sad, for any reason," you tell her. "So, if I ever become one of those reasons... I'd want you to tell me. I'll fix it right away."

>Her eyes immediately dart back to you.

>"N-No! You're so nice to me!" She spouts. "You're not... You don't make me sad...."

>Maybe you should drop it. Her increasingly worried demeanor doesn't make you feel the best.

>"Well, all right," you say. "...But I'm serious, Sophie. If I ever do something you don't like, please let me know."

>She simply nods, and continues to bashfully stand in front of you.

>You think that conversation would end there. But...

>"...There is something I'd like to s-say to you," she says, voice hinting uncertainty.

>"Of course, you can tell me anything," you assure her.

>"I-I want to... Uh... If you... Um..." she struggles, before going quiet all together.

>Seemingly just...considering what she wants to say.

>But you're patient with her.

>She can take as long as she needs.

>"I-I..." she pipes up again. "I'm really happy you'll be around more often."

>Didn't she already say that yesterday...?

>"Me too, Sophie. You know I felt guilty leaving you all by yourself for so long."

>"It's okay. You've been so nice to me. I don't want you to feel b-bad because of me."

>"No no, it's not like that at all!" You hurriedly put in. "I've only been happier ever since you got here."

>"Oh..." she pauses. "Then..."

>...

>"Then...?" You question.

>"...I-It's nothing."

>"Nothing? You sure?"

>She nods.

>"Well, if you say so."

>You hope it really was nothing, but of course you have your doubts.

>Still, if she doesn't want to talk about it, then that's that.

>You can't help but try to piece something together in your head.

>If you've "only been happier ever since" you brought Sophia home, then...?

>Then...what...?

>...

>Well, "then" by itself isn't a very descriptive lead, and leaves a very wide range of possibilities.

>You decide to put it out of your mind for now.

>You really want to bring the focus away from last night.

>The subject just seems to damper what was a good mood for Sophia.

>"So Sophie, how about you think of some stuff you'd like to do since I'm going to be working from home?" You suggest. "We'll continue your reading lessons of course. But I also have more time to play some games with you. Oh, I could pull up a catalogue, and you could pick out some toys and clothes you'd think you like."

>She looks back at you, giving you a little nod and a smile.

>"That sounds fun..." she says.

>You smile back.

>You really are glad you'll get to spend more time with Sophia.

>She seriously has become the highlight of each day for you.

>After your talk with her, your conscious had been clear a bit.

>She's happy you'll be around more.

>You're happy you'll be around more.

>And that would be defining the upcoming weeks as you failed to make worthwhile progress in finding potential adopters.

>Days will pass to weeks, and weeks to months.

>But each day, you and Sophia will be able to do things together, each with some ups and downs...

***

>"It's very simple. You just take a rag like this..." you hold up a dust cloth so Sophia can see, before setting it down on the living room table. "...and you just wipe it back and forth."

>You demonstrate as you explain, wiping back and forth across the table with the cloth.

>Sophia watches with a careful focus, as if the simplicity was actually masking something more complicated.

>"The cloth will naturally pick up any dust as you go along," you continue, lifting the cloth to view what's been collected. "...Uh, and hair too."

>There was more of Sophia's fur than you realized.

>You suppose she had spent most of her time here in the living room at first, so it only makes sense there'd be a lot of fur here.

>You turn it to Sophia so she can see the effectiveness of the cloth.

>She blushes at the sight of it.

>"That's a lot of my hair..." she remarks. "Sorry."

>"Don't worry about it. It's no issue," you assure her. "So, if there's stuff on a table or counter, you take it all off. Dust both the table and anything that had been on it, and then put everything back. There isn't much more to it than that."

>"Okay. I understand."

>"All right. How about we get started then?"

>Sophia nods, and takes the fresh cloth you extended to her.

>The two of you get to work.

>You start with the items on a counter.

>There aren't many, and they primarily consist of picture frames and lamps.

>Sophia helps by dusting the counters as you take off each one's items.

>As you've come to expect, she's thorough to an unnecessary degree. Every inch must have been wiped at least three times over.

>When it comes to picture frames, she's especially delicate with them.

>Her efforts definitely speak to you, showing you how much she wants to prove her helpfulness.

>That, or maybe she'd be punished for less-than-perfect work at her previous home.

>Unfortunately you don't assume that the latter is very unlikely.

>"You're doing a great job, Sophie," you tell her as she carefully cleans every edge and face of a picture's frame.

>She looks back at you and smiles.

>"Thank you," she returns timidly, before returning to the frame.

>You notice that after she flipped it over, she got distracted, staring at the picture itself.

>"Which one is that?" You ask.

>"Um... This one," Sophia says as she flips it around to face you.

>A human man, woman, and child sitting together outdoors, seemingly just before sunset.

>They're all smiling as if they had been laughing jovially the moment the picture was taken.

>"That's you when you were a kid, right?" She asks, pointing to the child.

>"That's right."

>"So the other two are..."

>"Mom and Dad, yes. I remember that day. They hired a photographer to take some family pictures. We went out and had a bunch taken," you recall.

>Mom and Dad definitely look considerably more youthful there.

>But of course, that applies the most to you.

>You look to be only a few years older than Sophia is now.

>"You all look so happy," she remarks.

>"Well, yeah."

>That's kinda the point...

>"...I like it," she says.

>"You like it?"

>"Mm-hm. You're such a...nice, happy family. All t-together."

>"Well, uh, thank you," you say, a little unsure how to respond to that. "They got a good photographer."

>Sophia gets back to work wiping the dust off it.

>When she's finished, she gently places the frame in nearly the exact spot and angle it had been in before.

>Watching Sophia with the picture reminded you about your last phone call with Mom and Dad.

>Certainly they're going to want to visit soon.

>You don't like the idea of essentially cutting them out of your life as you struggle to find Sophia a permanent home.

>Even as your parents, they've always seemed to be a little more...eager to be around you, or to know how you're doing.

>A consequence of being an only child when they wanted more, you guess.

>You shake the thought again.

>It may not be worth worrying about what they'd think of Sophia if you're aiming for them to never know she even existed.

>Instead you put your mind back to dusting.

>It won't be too long before the two of you are done, even if you haven't been at it long.

>You really don't have many trinkets and such to collect dust.

>You don't even really have that many pictures around.

>Taking another glance at Sophia, and remembering what she said about that one photo, an idea pops in your head.

>"Hey, Sophie," you start, directing her attention back to you. "After we're done, how about we take a picture like that?"

>Her eyes light up.

>"R-Really? Both of us...together...?"

>"Of course. Would you like that?"

>"Y-Yeah! I'd really like that!"

>If her tone wasn't enthusiastic enough, her wagging tail was a clear indication of her excitement.

>All that for a single picture....

>Well, you can't say you aren't happy about it too.

>Once you've found Sophia a place to stay, it'll be nice having a photo with her to look back on.

>Having nothing to show for something as important in your life as Sophia has been wouldn't feel right, even if that should be your intention as you try to avoid having others find out about her and the misunderstandings that'd cause.

>Though, you suppose that if you magically found her to-be adopters right this second, at the very least you'd still have the drawing she made of the two of you.

>You had put that up on the fridge. It makes you smile every time you look at it.

>"I'm glad you're excited," you smile. "Let's finish up here, and then we'll take it."

>Sophia nods and gets back to work, though her tail doesn't stop wagging.

>Before long, there wasn't a trace of dust to be found on any table or counter.

>Despite Sophia being eager to take a photo with you after the job was done, she didn't cut any corners.

>"Great work, Sophie. You were a big help," you praise, holding out your palm.

>As per what seems to have become a tradition between the two of you, Sophia opts to grab your hand rather than high-five it.

>"Thank you," she returns. "I like h-helping out."

>"I couldn't ask for a better helper," you smile, giving her paw a gentle squeeze.

>"So, are we going to...?"

>"Take the picture?" You finish, getting a nod from her. You grin. "Eager, are we? How about we sit on the couch for it?"

>"Okay...!" She responds before making her way towards it.

>You briefly think about using your laptop for the shoot, but you realize the resolution wasn't the best when it came to taking photos.

>A picture from your phone may have worse dimensions, but nothing that a little cropping can't fix.

>You just need to make sure you and Sophia are framed right together.

>You grab your phone and follow Sophia to the couch.

>The two of you sit together side-by-side, with about an inch of distance inbetween.

>That is, until Sophia bridges that small gap, lightly grazing her shoulder with yours, and gently leaning her head against you.

>You can't help but put your arm around her in response.

>"Ready?" You ask, holding your phone out and tilting it around to find the best angle.

>"I'm ready," she responds.

>"All right then. Look here, and say 'cheese'!"

>"Cheeeeese!"

>Within the second it takes you to snap a picture, you get a good look at the two of you through the phone screen.

>There's you of course, lightly pulling Sophia into a gentle hug.

>And then there's Sophia...

>Her smile is the widest you've even seen it before.

>Usually you can only get timid, toothless grins out of her.

>But here, all of her teeth were on display.

>The sheer span of her smile as well as the sharpness of her teeth contributed to what should have been a threatening sight.

>But... It's Sophia. An extremely happy-looking Sophia.

>You could say she looks intimidating, or even dangerous. But the most accurate description will still be "cute" above all.

>If anything, the sharp teeth grant her a unique kind of cuteness that you haven't really seen before.

>Your own smile widens at the sight.

>She really is precious...

>*Snap!*

>"Did you take it?" She asks.

>"Yep. Let's see how it turned out."

>You bring your phone in and view the most recent photo.

>It turned out perfect, at least in your eyes.

>The two of you, seemingly just happy to be within each other's company.

>If it wasn't for the drastic difference in species, one might assume you were family.

>"...D-Do I look funny?" Sophia asks, having her previous excitement suddenly transformed into nervousness. "I-I'm not used to smiling...like that."

>"You look great, Sophie," you assure her. "Your smile is adorable."

>"O-Oh. Thank you," she blushes.

>"How do you think it turned out?"

>She studies it closely, seemingly taking in every detail.

>"...I really like it," she answers, simply but earnestly.

>"Me too, Sophie."

>"...Can we take more...soon?"

>"You want to take more? Of course we can."

>Creating even more evidence of your involvement with her probably isn't a smart idea.

>But you can't help agreeing to it.

>Having only one picture to remember her by isn't going to be enough.

>"Thank you," she makes out, bringing you out of your thoughts. "I've never done this before."

>"Well, I'm happy to do it with you," you return, giving her hair a gentle ruffle.

>She leans into you in response, which in turn causes you to gently pull her closer against your side.

>As the two of you sit together, it makes you realize how normalized all this has become.

>There's a mutual trust between the two of you that didn't quite seem to be all there when you first brought Sophia home.

>Now, she isn't scared to get close to you, nor show her affection through hugs and conversation.

>And to be honest, those sorts of things scared you at first as well.

>"Well Sophie," you start. "We've dusted. We've got a nice photo of each other. How about we play some more catch together? If you want."

>Sophia looks up at you, and nods.

>"Yes, please," she nods.

>You pause for a moment, thinking that Sophia might've only agreed because you wanted to.

>"Remember, you don't have to say yes to anything I offer. If you'd rather draw, or have an early dinner...."

>"No, it's okay. I want to play catch with you," she affirms.

>All right," you say, standing up. "I'll get the ball."

>

>After an amiable game of catch, you had excused yourself for a quick trip to a store.

>You promised you'd be back quick, and with only one thing in mind to purchase, it was easy to keep it.

>Sophia was a little curious about what you got, but she didn't press after you told her you wanted it to be a surprise.

>In fact, she went along with it by offering to stay in her room while you got it ready.

>With the bag containing the "mystery item" in hand, you make your way to your printer.

>You purchased a printer not long after you moved in, feeling it would be useful considering your line of work.

>Doubly so now, as you're doing most of your work at home.

>Once you're there, you pull the item out of the bag.

>An empty picture frame. One to join the others on your living room table.

>With the dimensions of the picture frame in mind, you set a photo to be printed.

>You would have sent it to be framed professionally, but you know you can't let anyone see the picture of you and Sophia together.

>The printer whirrs and clacks as it puts the picture to paper.

>For a moment you worry that Sophia can hear the noise, possibly spoiling the surprise if she can infer it correctly.

>Though you imagine it's likely that she's never had any experiences with a printer before.

>Once the printer has done its job, you take the resulting paper and grab some scissors.

>Cutting out the excess white space, you then slide the cutout into the frame.

>After it's secured in, you take a moment to analyze your craft.

>Though your printer's ink left a little to be desired in the vibrancy department, it looks as good as you could possibly make it.

>Popping the stand out, you place your DIY among the rest of the pictures; right next to the one of you and your parents.

>It fits right in, as long as no one is overly critical at least.

>Well, you've kept Sophia waiting long enough.

>Hopefully the payout will be worth the wait for her.

>"Hey, Sophie," you call upstairs. "It's ready!"

>In the distance you hear the turning of a doorknob, followed by a soft pattern of footsteps.

>You meet Sophia at the base of the staircase, and offer a hand to her.

>She takes it, and you lead her to the living room.

>"Now, it's nothing too big," you say as you guide her. "I just thought, you know, it'd be a fun thing to have around."

>She nods in response as the two of you step into the room.

>"There's a new picture...!" Sophia remarks before you could even bring her attention to it yourself.

>"Well, looks like you already noticed it," you say, a little impressed she realized so quickly. "Why don't you take a closer look?"

>"Okay," Sophia says as you let go of her hand, and she steps up to the new frame. "...I-It's the one we took today!"

>"Yep. I had to make it myself, but I think it turned out all right. What do you think?"

>Sophia turns back to look at you, pupils wide.

>"Can I...hold it?"

>"Er... Yeah, of course you can."

>She turns back to it, and with gentle paws, she picks it up and stares at the photo inside.

>"Do you like it?"

>"...I love it."

>You grin.

>"Glad to hear it. I can definitely make some more in the future."

>"P-Please," she says, still staring at you and herself. "...I'd really, really like that."

>"Me too."

>You watch as Sophia places the frame back.

>"...It's just like this one," she says, referring the the picture next to the one you made. "You and your p-parents...."

>You take a step next to her, comparing the two photos side-by-side.

>"...I can see what you mean," you remark.

>They do have the same premise...

>Children and their paren—

>...

>Children and their caretakers. ...That's more accurate to both of them.

>As the link between them, it is a bit strange to see how you've filled both roles.

>You shake the feeling and turn back to Sophia.

>"Hey, are you hungry?" You ask. "Why don't I make us something to eat?"

>Though she nods, she doesn't turn to you.

>You can only see the back of her head as she continues to look at the picture you took with her.

>"Okay," she says simply.

>"All right. I'll get on that."

>With that, you leave her be as you make your way to the kitchen.

***

>It was another night of trying to do research for Sophia's to-be caretakers.

>You tucked her in hours ago.

>But even with all that time up to this point, productive is far from the word you'd use to describe yourself.

>Technically, you haven't done any actual research.

>Instead, you find yourself having written three lists:

>"Required"

>"Heavily Preferred"

>"Good, But Not Necessary"

>Placed into each list were attributes of potential strategies.

>Not any actual strategies. Just things that would draw you toward or away from any particular one.

>In "Required" you put:

>"Able to meet with adopters beforehand"

>"Able to oversee adoption process to completion"

>In "Heavily Preferred" you put:

>"Adopters consist of both parents"

>"Adopters are anthros/similar to Sophia"

>"Involvement remains unknown to authorities"

>In "Good, But Not Necessary" you put:

>"Adopters have/had other children"

>"Sophia ends up nearby"

>With as much time as you've had, you'd have hoped the lists would be much longer.

>But you've been stuck on the placement on another potential attribute:

>"Can visit Sophia"

>Instinct tells you it should be required.

>But another part of you says that could be the dealbreaker in what'd be a potentially ideal adoption.

>In terms of ensuring Sophia ends up in a good place, you'd hope that meeting with the potential adopters, as well as seeing it all the way through would be enough.

>...No, those two things have to be enough. 

>They need to be.

>Because after she's adopted, there's no obligation to keep you in the picture.

>If you made the wrong decision, you'd lose all control to make it right.

>If they don't want you to visit Sophia, there'd be nothing you could do. And there's no way you can ensure they'd be fine with it.

>In other words, being able to visit her doesn't make sense to be required, because there's no way to ensure it.

>...But still, you can't help but want to put it there anyway.

>And that's where your mind has been nearly all this time.

>At this point, it really just feels like you've been procrastinating.

>But when you try to think about actual strategies to get Sophia to a good family, your mind goes blank.

>Really, what's even possible, let alone not unlikely to work...?

>As you attempt to focus and clear your head, you notice a noise...

>You thought it might be some leaves rustling outside at first, but you quickly realize it's coming from Sophia's room. It sounds like...

>Sniffling.

>Your heart drops, and you jump out of bed immediately.

>The memory of the last time she woke up crying plays in your mind.

>She had been crying in her sleep due to some awful dream.

>And she nearly scared you to death when she woke up in an intense panic.

>You hope this won't be like last time as you hurry to her room.

>As you get closer, you can definitely tell she's crying, albeit quietly.

>Once at her door, you gently push it open and lean inside.

>"Sophie?"

>Within the darkness, you're able to see the outline of Sophia.

>She's sitting up, awake.

>How long has she been like this...?

>"A-Anon...?" She says as if she's not sure she believes it's you.

>You can't see her face in the dark, but you don't want to blind her with the light.

>"Did you have a nightmare, Sophie?"

>"...Y-Yes," she answers, quivering.

>"A bad one?"

>There's a short pause and a loud sniffle before she answers "yes" again.

>Her voice is all you need to tell how shaken she is.

>You need to fix this.

>"I'm going to turn on the light, okay?"

>"...O-Okay...."

>You reach for the light switch and flick it on.

>The light is a little blinding at first, but your eyes are quick to adjust.

>You're finally able to get a good look at her.

>She's sitting up in her bed, a little scrunched up.

>Hugged tightly against her chest is her stuffed rabbit.

>And her face...

>It's already wet with tears having streamed down it.

>Her eyes look especially glossy because of it.

>And it looks like she's holding back even more.

>Her miserable expression completes the pitiful sight.

>There's no way she'll be able to go back to bed easily like this.

>"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask in a gentle voice as you walk to her bedside.

>"I don't know...."

>"You don't have to if you don't want to," you tell her. "I just want you to know you're safe."

>She looks downward, and gives a weak nod.

>"How about you stay with me for the night? Would you like that?"

>"...Mm-hm..." she gives another nod.

>"All right. Here we go..." you say as you calmly reach over and scoop up the little wolf in you arms.

>You do your best to be as gentle as possible as you lift her up.

>Like last time you picked her up, she throws her arms over your shoulders and hugs you tight.

>She holds her stuffed rabbit in an iron-fist grip.

>With Sophia safely in your arms, you begin your trek back to your room.

>The only sounds present were your barely audible footsteps on the soft carpet and Sophia's quiet, shakey breathing.

>The poor kid.

>Even if her nightmare doesn't seem to have been as bad as the last one, you can tell this one was still significantly terrible.

>"I'm here for you, Sophie," you try to reassure her, rubbing her back as you pass the threshold into your room.

>The covers on your bed are still messily open since you jumped out of them.

>Placing some more support on her back, you gently lower Sophia to your bed.

>Her grip finally loosens once she realizes you're setting her down.

>You carefully lay her on the bed and pull the covers over her.

>A lump at her chest indicates she's still clutching her rabbit.

>With just her head peaking out, she stares at you.

>She looks notably less frightened now.

>"You feel any better?" You ask, kneeling by her side.

>"...Yes."

>"Good. Whatever happened in that dream, just remember that you're safe here with me. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you," you tell her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

>"Th-Thank you..." she quietly utters. "...I-It was a car."

>A car?

>"You were...going to get hit by a car in the dream?"

>"Mm-hm...."

>A car. Huh.

>Your first guess would usually be something like endless falling, or being chased by some vague monster.

>A car has an almost disturbing sense of realism to it.

>"I-I woke up before it...hit me. O-Or maybe it did hit me," she explains sadly, and seemingly a little tripped up. "I don't know...."

>"Have you had this dream before?"

>"Not a lot..." she answers.

>That still means this wasn't the first time she's had that nightmare.

>It's just...one of the less common ones, it seems.

>"But... Y-You were there, this time," she continues.

>"I was?" You don't like the sound of that. "What, uh, what was I doing?"

>"...Nothing."

>Nothing? Is that a...good thing?

>"You...were on the sidewalk," she recounts. "I-I crossed the street when I shouldn't have..."

>You notice her voice beginning to quake.

>"...A-And I froze. Everyone...s-stopped and stared at me...at the same time..." you can see from the covers that her grip tightens on her rabbit. "...B-But nobody looked scared, or s-sad, or mad. They just...stared and d-did nothing. So did you... A-And the c-car didn't... I-It didn't..."

>"Hey hey! Don't worry, Sophie. That's all over," you tell her, trying to stop what was looking to be an impending panic attack.

>Her pupils had been shrinking near the end of her recounting, and her voice had become more panicked.

>Her ears folded against her head.

>"I won't let anything like that happen to you. I promise I'll keep you safe, all right?"

>Her expression appears to be recovering from that rising freight.

>"...Okay."

>"Would it make you feel better if I kept the lamp on?" You offer.

>"...Y-Yes," she says guiltily. "Sorry."

>"There's nothing to be sorry about," you console. "I'll be right back."

>You stand up fully, about to step out of the room.

>"Y-You're leaving...?!" She asks with returning fear, sitting up immediately.

>You stop in your tracks at the sight.

>"Don't worry Sophie. I'll be quick. I'm just grabbing some of those spare pillows and blankets downstairs," you explain. "I'll be right back."

>"You're gonna...sleep on the f-floor? Not up here...?"

>"Oh. Would you feel safer if I did?"

>"Yes... B-But also..." she pauses for a second. "...You don't deserve to sleep on the floor."

>You really wouldn't have minded sleeping of the floor, but you realize it's had a different meaning in Sophia's life.

>"That's very kind of you, Sophie," you tell her, standing by the door for a second. "Well, if it makes you feel safer...."

>You turn away from the doorway.

>Sophia shimmies over to the side of the bed to make space for you.

>You give her a thankful nod as you take your place next to her.

>As you settle in, you turn your head to her.

>You can't help but think about what she said about her dream.

>About you.

>That you just stood there, and watched her...

>...Well, you really don't like imagining anything like that happening to her.

>You curse your dream self for doing nothing, like everyone else.

>You can't help but feel guilty, even if that "you" came from a nightmare, and wasn't the real you.

>It wasn't even your own dream.

>...Actually, it makes it worse that it was Sophia's.

>Thinking about it, you would have hoped that Sophia's dreams would recreate you as some sort of reliable presence at least.

>...Does this mean something about what she really thinks of you...?

>Or are you reading way too far into this?

>"Uh... Hey Sophie?"

>"Yeah...?"

>"You know... As long as you're with me, I'm always going to keep you safe."

>"I know."

>...

>She knows, huh...

>Maybe you were being a little paranoid there.

>It's just...

>It doesn't feel like it's going to leave your conscious easily. Your dream self not doing anything to help her and what not.

>You really hope it means nothing, and it's not some sort of sign to how Sophia truly sees y—

>...Your thoughts are interrupted as you feel your right arm wrapped by two smaller ones.

>It's Sophia, hugging against your arm and pulling herself against your side.

>Using you like a giant teddy bear...

>She still slightly shaken.

>With her so close, you can feel her shivers.

>Holding on tight to you seems to be her way of combating it.

>You take a moment to get over the surprise you feel.

>"Here Sophie..." you say quietly as you lift your arm out of her grip.

>She's reluctant to let go, but gives no fight about it.

>You're quick to alleviate the worry in her that caused by bringing your arm around to her other side, further pulling her in to a protective, sideways hug.

>Though she doesn't say anything, you can tell through the way she cuddles up against your side that she's appreciative.

>Her head finds its way just past your shoulder, resting on you like a pillow.

>As she settles in, you notice her shivers subsiding.

>...

>You take in the situation.

>This young wolf girl, using you as a source of comfort from her nightmare like this...

>You, of all people.

>...It breaks your heart wondering what she would of done if she was alone on the streets again.

>It's not enough for her to be safe. She needs to feel safe too.

>You'll do all you can for that.

>"G-Good night, Anon..." she whispers. Then, "Thank you."

>"Night, Sophie," you respond. "You'll always be safe with me."

>And the two of you simply lie there like that.

>Sophia, glued to your side. Her light breaths being the only source of sound in the room.

>And you, arm around her keeping her secure and safe. A statement to any monsters hiding in the dark that they'd have to go through you if they wanted her.

>It feels nice.

>Not just because Sophia is a naturally warm presence, but because she trusts you to protect her like this.

>Like you're her guardian.

>As you drift of to sleep, you can't help but tell yourself that being able to visit her once she's adopted should be a necessity....

***

>Undoubtedly, one of the best benefits of spending more time with Sophia was how that time could be used for her lessons.

>You think she would agree.

>Sophia was always eager for her reading lessons without exception.

>Before you realized it, she had memorized well past half of the alphabet.

>You got ice cream to celebrate when she got to "Z".

>Of course, it doesn't end there. English isn't so merciful. Sophia's own name is proof enough.

>The strategy of relying on each individual letter's phonetics made her question if she really remembered what her name looked like.

>But when you showed her "Sophia" versus "Sofia", she insisted that it was the former.

>Now she needs to learn that some letter combinations make different sounds entirely, assuming the word with that combination isn't one of multiple exceptions to the rule.

>It's probably going to be a headache to teach. Not to mention, a headache for her to learn.

>But for now, the two of you can enjoy the desert celebrating her undeniably impressive progress.

>"Do you like that one? I've got some more flavors so you can find a favorite," you ask as she takes a bite out of hers.

>"Mm-hm!" She answers as the ice cream melts in her mouth. "I love it!"

>"That's good. You deserve it, Sophie. You've done such a great job."

>The compliment gets a light blush out of her.

>Seeing the little wolf so happy causes you to smile yourself.

>The warm feeling you're given makes you think...

>You're having a hard time trying to remember anything else in your life that's made you feel this way.

>When was the last time, before meeting her, that you were this happy?

>Seeing her smile...

>It almost feels like your birthday when you were a little kid.

>Just...pure joy.

>"We really did every letter?"

>"Every single one," you say as you ruffle her hair.

>"Hehe!" She giggles. "...But, there'll still be m-more lessons with you, right?"

>"Oh, of course. There's still a lot to learn."

>She nods, and her smile widens.

>"That's good. It's fun...learning with you."

>"And I enjoy teaching you," you return. "I can't tell you how proud I am that you've made it this far already."

>"See! I told you!"

>"Told me? Told me what?"

>"That you're a good teacher!"

>"Ah, come on, Sophie," you chuckle. "This was all you."

>"I did it the way you showed me. A-And you always helped me when I got stuck."

>You guess you can't really argue with that.

>"You're too kind, Sophie," you say. "Your ice cream is gonna melt if you leave it be any longer."

>"Oh...!" She realizes, looking down at her bowl before taking another scoop.

>The enjoyment she receives from each bite is contagious.

>Witnessing the joy written over her face ignites a warm feeling in you.

>You love seeing her happy. It's as simple as that.

>"O-Oh!" She realizes. "I forgot...! I want to see if I can read what you wrote for me...since I've done every letter."

>You remember what she's talking about.

>That sentence you wrote for her in the hopes that one day she'd be able to read it without your help.

>It might be difficult at her current level, but maybe she'll be able to do it.

>"Do you remember where it is?" You ask.

>"Mm-hm!" She nods before putting her ice cream down and scurrying off.

>She returns with a piece of paper in her hand, which she lays out on the kitchen table.

>"That's the one," you say. "You think you can read it? Remember, I'm not going to help you with this one."

>"I know. A-And I want to be able to do it myself!" She affirms.

>Her budding confidence makes you smile.

>"All right, Sophie. Give it a shot."

>"Okay," she says, taking in a deep breath.

>She enters an intense state of concentration as she looks over the paper...

>"Sophia is a..." she begins, though reaching a hurdle almost immediately.

>There's an urge in you to give her a hint, but you can only hope that she remembers the lesson you gave her on vowels...

>"...good kid..." she briefly glances at you after that part, which you return with a smile.

>She stares at the next word for a moment before she remembers.

>"...who..."

>You know the next word will cause her some trouble. She's never read a word as long as "deserves".

>"...u-um..." she puts her finger over it, covering it up except for the first few letters. "...deh...seh...rrr...veh...sss..."

>She ponders it before looking back at you.

>"...Deserves?"

>As much as you want to help her out, it'd defeat the purpose of the whole thing.

>"Sorry Sophie. I can't give any hints."

>After a second, she gives an accepting nod and turns her attention back to the paper.

>"Sophia is a good kid who...d-deserves...to be..."

>Come on, Sophie. Just one more word....

>She stares at it, seemingly concentrating.

>That is, until the edge of her mouth begins to lift up.

>"...Thank you, Anon," she says. "I am happy...with you."

>"Aww, Sophie..." you smile, reaching over and patting her head. "So, you did it!"

>"Yeah," she looks down at the paper, still smiling herself. "I read the whole thing correctly, right?"

>"You did it perfectly," you tell her. "You've grown so much."

>"I've g-grown?" She says, surprised.

>And maybe a slight bit...panicked?

>"You have. Not just reading, but also how you speak and...just generally interact with people."

>Or, just you, you suppose.

>You pray she doesn't revert back to her asocial fearfulness when she meets anybody else.

>Still...

>"I have a good feeling you're gonna turn out just fine."

>"Are you... Are you sure?" She asks nervously.

>"Yeah," you say, tone becoming more concerned. "...Is there something you're scared of?"

>She stays silent.

>"Oh, do you not want to talk about it?"

>"...I-I think I should," she utters.

>"Huh?"

>What is she...?

>"I think I know why the..." she gulps. "...people before...didn't like me."

>The "people before"? You had hoped Sophia would have taken your advice and forgotten about them.

>...But you also know something like that cannot be done so easily.

>You want to step in and comfort her...

>...But your curiosity stops you from interrupting her.

>"I-I don't remember my...dad," she continues, voice becoming unsteady. "But I think he was a...b-bad guy."

>She looks down.

>"...A really bad guy. I-I think that's what they said...."

>You take a moment to process what that means.

>"...You think that they didn't treat you fairly because of that?" You ask.

>She nods.

>"B-Because I might turn out like him."

>"Hey hey! That's not going to happen!" You step in. "And that's no justification for how they treated you either!"

>"But...aren't children supposed to be like their p-parents?"

>"Sophia, look at me," you say, and she complies instantly. "You said you don't remember your father, right?"

>She nods.

>"How old were you when you were last together?"

>"...I don't know."

>"Did he leave you anything at all?"

>"...No."

>"...Do you know his name?"

>"...I-I don't."

>...

>You take a deep breath.

>"Sophie, I can't say anything about who your father was. Obviously I never met the guy," you begin. "And, it doesn't seem to me that you've 'met' him either. If he really was a bad person, how would you follow in his footsteps if he hasn't been in your life long enough for you to learn his name?"

>"I-Isn't it...in my nature?"

>"If you've been...influenced by him, in blood alone, then I'd have to assume he's a pretty good guy."

>"W-What?"

>"Sophia, the entire time you've been with me, you've only been kind, careful, gentle, and sweet..." the list could go on, but you'll get to the point. "...so, if your connection to him is really that important, then I could only make positive assumptions of him."

>Sophia looks unsure.

>"But... I heard th-them say...he was really bad...."

>"Like I said, I can't make that judgement. Because even if you're a good kid, 'who you are' isn't only defined by who your parents are. Your upbringing, and the people who actually participate in your life, help shape you," you explain. "I mean, hopefully one's parents would be the driving force in that too. But unfortunately that's not always the case...."

>"Like for me..." she says sadly.

>You don't like seeing her like this.

>You need to wrap this up on a positive note.

>"You don't know your dad. You weren't lucky enough to have someone to fill that role for you. But Sophie, I promise you, I will take care of that."

>"Y-You will...?!" She perks up, much to your relief.

>"I promise, I will find someone who can fill that role. Somebody you'll be the happiest to call your dad."

>She blinks, before slouching slightly.

>...

>Sophia stares at you with an unreadable expression.

>She opens her mouth, but stops herself, continuing to stare.

>...Did you say something wrong?

>...

>"S-Sophie?"

>That seems to have snapped her out of whatever trance that was, as her eyes drift away from you.

>"Th...Thank you...Anon," she says with a grateful but shaking tone. "You're so nice to me...."

>"I just want to make sure you're happy," you tell her. "Heh... I didn't expect to talk for so long. You're ice cream's all melted."

>Sophia turns to her bowl as you pointed it out.

>"How about I get you another bowl?"

>A weak smile creeps onto her face, and she nods.

>"Thank you...."

>

>Later that day, while recounting the conversation between you and Sophia, an idea pops in your head.

>You grab your laptop.

>In the search bar, you look up any local news stories that, in particular, involved a wolf anthro.

>You don't have to look far before you find something...

>Years ago, in the city, an older man, a human, got mugged by a large wolf anthro.

>His shade of fur immediately brought Sophia's own to your mind.

>You hope the slight resemblance to Sophia you see in him is just a combination of not having met many wolf anthros and placebo. 

>Apparently, during the crime, the wolf was overly rough to the old man.

>Ended up knocking the guy down hard, and he suffered severe head trauma after falling on a parking block.

>Which, ultimately, proved fatal...

>And the wolf was eventually caught and imprisoned for assault, theft, and manslaughter.

>This may just be what Sophia was talking about.

>That man might actually be her father...

>The timing seems to about match up—even if you still haven't figured out Sophia's exact age—and you admittedly think she looks more like this guy than Larry.

>...

>Well, so what if he is her father?

>Sophia's not doomed to become just like him.

>You'll make certain of that.

>There was no excuse for Sophia to be treated like she was before you found her.

>She doesn't deserve to be tied to her father's actions, especially if she never even knew him. She never even learned what he did.

>Sophia is going to turn out just fine.

>She's going to live a happy life with a new family who will be happy to have her.

>There's nothing more you want than to make that happen for her.

>"Sophia! Breakfast is ready!" You call out, setting down two plates of scrambled eggs and one glass of apple juice.

"Coming!" You hear her call back, followed by the light patter of her footsteps from the second floor. You smile at her as she comes into view.

>Every now and then, you remember how she used to look when you first found her.

>Sickly and malnourished, roughed up fur, stained clothes...

>But here she is now, healthy, clean...

>Safe.

>All because of your care.

>You're not one to pat yourself on the back very often, but you can't help but feel prideful by that fact.

>You've been getting that feeling a lot actually.

>The young wolf scooches her chair back and sits down.

>"Good morning Sophia." You greet as you sit across from her.

>"Good morning... A-Anon," she greets back, not meeting your gaze.

>Instead she stares at her food.

>She looks nervous. Very nervous in fact.

>It concerns you.

>"Sophia?"

>She finally looks up at you. Scared might be a better descriptor.

>"Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale."

>Well, as pale as gray fur can look anyway.

>"I'm okay. Just tired," she responds weakly, before taking a sip of her juice.

>You study her expression.

>She appears alert, as if she thinks something's about to pop out at her at any second.

>That doesn't read "tired" to you.

>It reminds you of her when she first started living with you. Afraid to do so much as speak without your permission.

>She hadn't acted like that in so long...

"Sophia, if there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," you try to reassure her.

>The wolf gently sets down her cup.

"I know," she's almost whispering at this point. She sounds guilty.

>Has she done something?

>Sophia starts on her eggs as you think of what to say next.

>...

>You don't like seeing her like this.

>"No matter what, I promise I won't be mad."

>She pauses for a second,

>Nods,

>And continues eating.

>You decide to drop it for now, getting started on your own eggs.

>

>Once Sophia's finished, you stack her plate onto yours and take the diningware to the sink to rinse it.

>She says nothing, still silently sitting at the table, looking down where her plate used to be.

>This doesn't ease your worries.

>You turn on the tap, running plates through the stream.

>You almost don't hear Sophia clear her throat over the running water.

>You turn your head to her.

>She's still sitting at the table, but now she's staring right at you.

>She's shaking.

>Now you're really concerned.

>She must be sick, you think.

>You turn your head back to the sink and turn off the water. Do you have a thermometer somewh—

>"Thank you, Dad."

>"You're—"

>You freeze.

>Did she just...?

>You slowly turn around.

>Sophia's shivering violently now.

>As soon as you look at her, she ducks her head down again.

>"...What did you call me?"

>"I-I'm sorry... I shouldn't... I'm sorry."

>You want to say something, but you don't know what.

>Could... Could she really see you like that?

>Sophia looks both guilty and terrified.

>You don't like seeing her like this.

>Your legs feel automatic as you approach her.

>She gets up and faces you, legs together, arms to her side...

>...head tucked down.

>It looks as if she's expecting you to strike her.

>You really, really don't like seeing her like this.

>"I'm sorry...." She whimpers.

>Again you want to say something, but don't know what.

>You bend down to her level...

>...and wrap your arms around her.

>She immediately tenses up.

>"Don't apologize," you speak gently.

>"If you want to, you can call me dad."

>The wolf begins to relax in your arms, staying silent for a second.

>"Is it... Is it really okay?"

>You think to yourself.

>Is it okay?

>You remember the few times you imagined what it would be like to be a father. Every time, within seconds, you concluded you weren't cut out for it. Fatherhood was something you felt you'd naturally be bad at.

>You're Anon. How good of a dad could you honestly be?

>"Only if you really believe I can be a good father."

>All of the sudden you feel her arms wrapped around you, returning the hug.

>"You already have been."

>Sophia's holding you tight.

>She doesn't want to let go.

>And neither do you.

>You only want to keep your daughter safe and happy.

>

>After the hug was broken, you had to step away and take a moment to process what had just happened.

>Sophia wants to be your daughter.

>You want to be her father.

>You've accepted her wish, as she did yours...

>...

>She's going to be your daughter now.

>YOUR daughter.

>...

>You have a daughter.

>...

>You.

>Have.

>A.

>Daughter.

>You can't stop playing it in your head.

>It doesn't feel real that something like this could have just happened to you.

>There's a sense of weightlessness in your chest.

>You're nervous...

>No. You're scared...

>No. You're terrified...

>But even more than that, you're overjoyed.

>It's impossible to describe how happy you are right now.

>You can't remember a moment in your entire life where you've been this happy.

>She called you "Dad."

>She really called you "Dad."

>You're so glad Sophia can't see this stupid grin on your face.

>At this point, it feels as if your expression will be stuck like this forever.

>Dad...

>...

>......

>..................

>You need to make this official.

>Somehow, you have to find out a way for her to be legally recognized as your daughter.

>But how?

>How are you going to adopt her?

>You're running into a familiar problem here.

>People will get suspicious.

>Sophia hasn't left your house for months now.

>And it certainly doesn't help that you're a single male.

>Even if they trust that you never...

>...God, you somehow hate that thought more than ever right now...

>...took advantage of her...

>...that wouldn't guarantee that they'd let you adopt her.

>They might even bar you from it outright.

>Asking the authorities for help seems so risky.

>But you need to figure out a way. You need to make this work somehow.

>You want Sophia to be able to go to school.

>You want her to be able to make friends.

>Hell, you want her to be able to take a single step outside of your house.

>You made a promise she'd get to live a normal life, but how can you do that if she's hidden away in your home?

>Obviously this problem isn't going to be solved right away.

>For now, you should put your focus in your new role in life.

>Sophia's dad.

>...

>...There's that stupid grin again.

>You've only been away for five minutes, and you want to see your daughter again.

>"Hey, Sophie," you call as you walk back towards her.

>You spot her as you turn the corner to the living room.

>She had been staring at the very first picture you had taken with her, before turning around to face you.

>You see her in a new light...

>Her deep gray fur...

>Her large pointed ears...

>Her little muzzle, currently donning an adorable smile...

>She's wearing that oversized orange dress, the first you ever bought her...

>And you can hear her tail wagging against it as she sways about innocently...

>That's your daughter, and she's absolutely precious.

>"Hi, Dad."

>Her voice melts your heart all over again.

>"Sophie... I'm not sure where to start," you say. "...If you really want me to be your dad, then I promise, I'll do all I can for you."

>"A-Are you sure you're okay with it...?" She asks.

>"...I don't think anything has made me happier than hearing you call me 'Dad'," you tell her, bending to her level.

>You hold out your arms open, as if inviting her to a hug.

>But as she hurries over and wraps her arms around you, you instead lift her to your height as you stand back up.

>Although she's a little caught of guard, a quiet giggle implied she enjoyed the lift.

>"I can't tell you how proud I'll be to call you my daughter," you say with her in your arms.

>"R-Really?" Her eyes glisten.

>"Really."

>"W-Well, I'm proud to call you my dad!"

>You can't help but chuckle at that.

>How did things end up like this? You've got yourself a doting daughter now.

>What immaculate good deed did you do to earn this? How lucky are you?

>Whatever the answers, it doesn't feel that life could possibly get any better than it is right now.

>You should celebrate. Maybe you should get a cake?

>...The thought of cake brings a question to your mind.

>A question that you can probably already guess what they answer will be...

>"Hey, Sophie? Do you know what day your birthday is?" You question.

>Her smile droops the slightest amount as she shakes her head.

>"No. Nobody told me..." she answers.

>If she doesn't know by now, there's a depressingly likely chance that that information is lost for good.

>"Well then... How about we just consider that your birthday is today?"

>"Today?"

>"You know, since we decided we're going to be family today? I think it would be nice to mark today with something like that."

>She ponders it for a second, sitting thoughtfully on your arm.

>"...I'd like that," she decides, her smile returning to its former glory and then some. "I'd like that a lot."

>"I'm glad..." you say earnestly. "I believe that means we need to get a celebration going."

>"A...celebration?"

>"Of course. You really deserve one."

>She gives a gentle nod after a pause.

>"Thank you, Dad," she practically whispers, before she pulls herself closer and nuzzles into you.

>As you stand there, holding your daughter, there's no doubt in your mind that adopting Sophia yourself is the right choice.

***

>Your daughter...

>She's your daughter now...

>You couldn't stop that from echoing in your mind even if you tried.

>But you feel it's warranted.

>How could it not be?

>You literally just accepted Sophia into your family.

>As your own child nonetheless.

>This is no small development. Not by a long shot.

>It makes you think about why you're so enthusiastic about such a sudden and drastic change to your life.

>You've been providing for Sophia for months.

>Teaching her. Playing with her. Making sure she's safe...

>As time passed, you never got tired of it.

>In fact, the opposite happened.

>Every minute you spent with Sophia built up a weird feeling in you that amplified the joy you felt being with her.

>You've watched her grow.

>You've been her biggest, positive influence.

>And most importantly, the happiness you feel with her in your life is mutual.

>Welcoming her into your family... Welcoming her as your daughter...

>It was the next logical step. You're certain of that.

>At first, you hadn't realized just how much you wanted her to stay in your life.

>But when she called you "Dad"...

>It made you feel strong enough to fight off your own insecurities of being one.

>Of course you wanted the kid off the cold and dirty streets and to not have to worry about finding food, or a tolerable place to sleep.

>Of course you don't want her to believe that she's a burden to others by nature, and isn't deserving of anything positive that comes her way.

>Any decent person wouldn't wish that on a child.

>But it wasn't unclouded until recently that being her parent was something you really wanted to commit to.

>It almost feels selfish.

>She brings you so much happiness, but aren't there other people out there that would make better parents than you?

>But... Sophia wants it like this.

>She wants you to be her father.

>If you want that too, and Sophia believes she'll be the happiest this way, then what else could you ask for?

>This is a huge, life-changing occasion, obviously.

>You don't know if you're ready for it, but you're at least ready to try.

>And you know what? That's worth celebrating.

>As you roll your shopping cart to the checkout aisles, you glance at everything you're going to buy.

>Maybe you got a little much, considering you're going to be the only other one there at Sophia's "birthday party".

>But it's not like you're planning for an open invite high school party.

>"Wow! You must be planning a huge party!" The girl at the register remarks.

>"Oh, uh... Not really. Just a birthday party for my daughter."

>"Oh, really? With all these balloons and streamers and whatnot, she must have a lot of friends coming over."

>"...Yeah," you decide to just go with it.

>It takes a while for everything to get scanned, and the total is definitely intimidating.

>But you can afford to splurge for Sophia.

>If this is going to be her first "birthday", then it has to be a good one.

>You're not going to cheap out on your daughter.

>

>Streamers are up.

>Balloons are inflated.

>Presents are wrapped, and line the living room table.

>The cake is out, and two plates are set.

>Sophia is upstairs in her room, keeping herself busy, waiting for you to call her down.

>You hope you didn't keep her waiting too long.

>You wanted it to be a complete surprise, but if you want to celebrate her "birthday" today, it wasn't feasible to keep this setup a secret when Sophia isn't able to leave your house.

>This will have to do.

>Just one more thing...

>You pull out your phone, and prepare to record her reaction.

>You've taken a few cute photos of her, but you think it's about time you start immortalizing memories of her through video as well.

>And what better occasion than her first celebrated "birthday"?

>You hit Record.

>"All right, Sophia!" You announce. "You can come down now!"

>"...Okay!" You hear her call back, followed by her padded footsteps.

>Pat! Pat! Pat! Pat! Pat!

>The first thing you see that turns the corner is a deep purple.

>One of her new dresses.

>Only slightly reminiscent of that ragged purple dress she wore when you first found her.

>Now, a gradient violet which ends in a dark blue trim.

>The fabric is softer, longer, and flows more freely.

>When Sophia herself comes into view, your heart melts a little.

>She spots you with a happy grin, but her eyes widen in surprise as she notices all the colorful birthday decorations around you.

>"Happy Birthday, Sophie!" You cheer.

>You follow Sophia's gaze as it goes from the streamers, to the balloons, to the cake, and finally the gifts.

>"You did this...all for me?" She asks bashfully.

>"Of course. Today's your birthday, Sophie. You deserve a good one."

>She looks back at you, smile widening, and eyes sparkling.

>"...Thank you, Dad."

>"Of course, Sophie," you smile back. "But we can't start partying until you put this on."

>You step up to her and show Sophia what she'd be able to describe as a small, shiny cone with string.

>"What is it?" She questions.

>"Here, just let me..." setting your phone down for a second, you place the face of the cone between Sophia's ears, and pull the string under her chin. "There!"

>"Oh...! It's a horn!" She guesses.

>You chuckle.

>"Not quite," you say, before getting out and putting on a green one to match Sophia's purple one. "They're party hats. What do you think?"

>"You look tough!"

>"Tough?" You snicker. That definitely wasn't something you'd expect to hear because of a party hat.

>"Y-Yeah! It's so sharp," she reasons. "...Do I look tough too...?"

>"Hmm..." you place your thumb under your chin and raise your pointer finger over your mouth, looking as if you're in deep consideration. "Here, try doing this...."

>You raise your hands up to head-level and push them slightly forward, tensing up your fingers to mimic unsheathed claws.

>Sophia does the same, but with a much more curious expression.

>"Now, give me your meanest snarl."

>"A snarl? L-Like this...?"

>You watch as she tries gritting her fangs, flashing the teeth on her right side more than her left.

>Her eyes narrow, but at the complete wrong angles, making her look unsure of herself rather than angry.

>"...A-Am I doing it right?" She asks through her teeth. "Do I look tough?"

>Well, she's got the fangs and the claws, but...

>To say the least, her party hat isn't helping her out very much.

>"...Sorry Sophie," you grin. "You're too cute to be scary."

>"Aww..." she pouts, dropping the "scary" pose. "...It's okay. I don't want to look s-scary. I-I want to look tough...!"

>"Ah, I suppose 'scary' and 'tough' aren't really the same thing, are they? Well, let me tell you this."

>You kneel down to her height, place an arm on her shoulder, and look her in the eyes.

>"Sophie, you're the toughest kid I've ever met. And I'm serious about that."

>It's true.

>She had to endure all that abuse growing up, only to be dumped on the streets and abandoned.

>You don't know how many days she was homeless, but whatever that number is was equally too many.

>You can't imagine how you would have turned out if you had to endure even half of all that.

>"I-I am...?" Her eyes shine brighter than usual at your statement.

>"Without a doubt," then, swift yet gentle, you sweep her up into a princess-style carry, getting a light, surprised gasp from her. "Now, how about we get the celebration started? You've got cake and presents waiting for you."

>Though caught off guard from the sudden lift, Sophia is quick to laugh it off and lean into you.

>"Okay!" She answers excitedly.

>"How about we start with the cake? That way you can have a slice out as you open presents," you suggest.

>She nods her head in agreement.

>"All right," you spin around with Sophia to the kitchen. "Let's get those candles lit."

>You carry her over, noticing how she eyes the cake.

>In order to get a cake today, you had to get one of the blank vanilla cakes on display.

>"Happy Birthday Sophia!" Was signed in tall blue letters.

>"Welcome to the Family!" Was signed in smaller, red text below.

>The worker behind the counter had assumed it was for a newborn.

>"Hah... Happy Bih-ert... Birf..." she tries. "Happy Birthday, me. Welco... Welcome...to the...fam-illy? Family...!"

>She turns to you eagerly.

>"That's it, r-right?"

>"Exactly right."

>Your heart glows with pride. She's gotten so good a reading.

>She shines an accomplished smile as you set her down.

>Various colorful candles had already been plated, though of course, Sophia's actual age being unknown makes it impossible to know if you put too many or too few.

>After you grab the lighter, Sophia flinches as the flame clicks into existence.

>Regardless, she continues to watch with great anticipation as you go through lighting every candle.

>"...Is that dangerous?" She asks, peering up at the flames.

>"Dangerous? Not as long as I'm careful," you answer as the last candle is lit. You turn to Sophia with the lighter in hand. "But... Don't touch this. You're too young to be using something like this."

>"Okay, I won't," she nods.

>You trust her of course, but even still, you'll store it in a high place to be safe.

>"How do we eat it when it's on f-fire?"

>"You don't know what happens next?"

>"Um..." she thinks for a bit before shaking her head.

>"Well Sophie, because it's your birthday, you get to make a wish and blow out the candles," you explain.

>"A wish?" She questions. "What do I wish for?"

>"Anything you'd like," you say. "Just don't say it out loud."

>"A-And it will come true?"

>"It's...more of a tradition than anything else," you answer, trying to keep her expectations leveled.

>"Oh. That's okay," she says. "...I don't know what else I'd wish for."

>Else?

>"How about this? We'll consider your wish 'in reserve' until you think of something later."

>"Okay. I like that," she agrees.

>"All right, then... Hup!" You hoist Sophia up so that her head is level with the candles. "Now, blow out the candles!"

>Sophia eyes each of her targets before taking an unnecessarily deep breath, and she blows out every flame with a single exhale.

>"Happy birthday, Sophie," you tell her happily as you set her down and pat her head.

>In response, her head tilts to your palm with a big grin on her face.

>"Let's get that cake sliced," you say, moving to grab a knife large enough for the job. "...Don't touch this either."

>After two pieces are cut out and plated, you set them down at the table.

>You can tell by the way Sophia watches her slice that's she's curious how the cake tastes.

>In addition to the cake, you also scoop some of the leftover ice cream you had gotten to celebrate Sophia getting through the entire alphabet.

>The two of you take your seats across from each other.

>"Go ahead, Sophie. Give it a try," you tell her, and she nods in response.

>She grabs her fork, and lifts the prongs above the slice.

>After a bit of thought in how to approach it, she digs her fork into the piece, tearing out an uneven chunk of cake.

>"It's really soft," she notes.

>She looks at it for a second more before finally tasting it.

>Her reaction is immediate.

>Bliss, written all over her face.

>"Mmm!" She makes out, before taking another chunk.

>"Sounds to me you like it," you remark.

>She returns a big nod, likely because she can't talk at the moment.

>You get started on your own slice, using the side of your fork to cut it into even smaller pieces.

>It's a bit hard to make conversation while Sophia's enjoying the cake like this, but as long as she's happy, so are you.

>After she's had two slices and a bowl of ice cream, you think it's time to move on to the next part of the party.

>"Hey Sophie, how about you start opening your gifts?"

>"Gifts...?" She says, with a tone of confusion. "...Where are they?"

>"Yeah, did you not see them? They're in the living room," you tell her. "Here, come with me."

>You both get up from the table, and you lead Sophia to the living room table.

>Once there, you gesture to the sea of presents neatly stacked on the table, uniformly sharing the same wrapping paper:

>The multicolored words "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" on a white background.

>"Oh... I thought those were decorations," she says. "T-There's a lot...."

>"Why don't you sit on the couch while you open them?" You suggest.

>"Okay," Sophia nods before making her way to the front of the couch and getting comfy.

>She looks back to you.

>"They're...all for me?" She asks unsure.

>"Every one. We're celebrating your birthday after all," you affirm. "You can start with any you like."

>Looking upon the selection, Sophia picks out the smallest item, only about four inches in height.

>She looks it over, before turning to you.

>"H-How do I open this...?" She asks with a slight apologetic tone.

>"Oh, here. Let me show you," you offer, reaching your hand out.

>Sophia hands it to you, and you demonstrate using your nail to make a tear in the wrapping.

>"Give it a try," you say as you hand it back to her.

>She nods, and unsheathes the claw on her pointer finger.

>With careful, almost surgical precision, Sophia glides her claw over the paper, effortlessly cutting it off.

>With that, the first gift is revealed:

>A yellow glass star, with a plug on the bottom.

>Sophia eyes it with curiosity and awe.

>"It's a nightlight," you explain.

>"A nightlight?"

>"Yeah. We'll plug it in your room. When it gets dark, the nightlight will glow," you tell her.

>"S-So my room won't be so dark anymore?"

>"That's the idea. Would you like that?"

>She nods profusely.

>You thought so. You can only imagine how Sophia felt waking up to pitch blackness after a nightmare.

>"Thank you, Dad."

>...Man, every time she calls you "Dad"...

>...Your heart can't take it.

>"Don't thank me yet, Sophie," you say, looking to the side to avoid her seeing your big stupid grin. "You've still got a bunch more to open."

>The next one Sophia selects is a larger, flat, and rectangular gift.

>One cut from her claws later, and the present is revealed to be a book.

>She lifts the book to her face, focusing on the cover.

>"Ten, clah... Class... Classic... Cuh... Chih... Um..." she struggles.

>"Ten Classic Children's Stories," you read aloud. "Sorry, the title seems a little above your reading level right now. But the stories inside should be much easier. They'll help give you reading practice. ...And maybe I could read a few of them to you for a bedtime story."

>"Bedtime s-story..." she says to herself, flipping through the pages and seeing some of the illustrations. "...I'd like that."

>"I'm glad. I'll enjoy it too."

>She continues to go through each present.

>Sometimes it's toys, sometimes it's clothes, sometimes it's decorations for her room...

>Every item widens her already big and appreciate smile.

>Perhaps you got her a bit too much...

>You hope you aren't spoiling her.

>Are you going to be one of those types of parents?

>Well, after what Sophia's had to go through in her life, she deserves to be a little spoiled.

>"...It's all so much..." Sophia says, as if having read your mind. "I-I've never had so much stuff."

>"If you're gonna be stuck up in this house for a while, I thought it'd be best to make sure you're really at home."

>"...I feel a little g-guilty," she admits. "This probably cost a lot...."

>"Don't worry about it. Let me handle stuff like that," you say. "It's your birthday. You deserve a couple of things."

>You give her another rub on the head to assure her.

>"The fact that I get to call you my daughter is payment enough."

>Sophia leans her side into you in response.

>"...I love you, Dad."

>"I love you too, Sophie."

>Adopting Sophia…

>How are you going to go about it?

>Before you were worried about finding the right people for her.

>But now, you need to think about how to legally adopt her yourself, which may be even more difficult.

>There are two main angles to go at it, you think.

>The first:

>Use the fact that you've been caring for her for months now as the reason why you should be able to adopt her.

>The second:

>Somehow get her into another group home discreetly. Pretend you don't know her as you adopt her through it.

>Of course, they both have major problems and risk factors that make you scared to attempt either.

>Even if Sophia vouches for everything you've done, they still might think you've just manipulated her, or are planning to actually do something bad in the future. In their shoes, the safest play is to keep her away from you. Not to mention it was very likely illegal to just take her into your home as you had.

>There's still no anthro-accepting group homes anywhere close to you. You'd have to take a long road trip with her, which it'd be easy for you to get caught, only to abandon her nearby and hope they take her in. Then they'd actually have to allow you, a single, adult, human male, to adopt her, an anthro little girl.

>It feels like you've been put in an impossible position.

>There doesn't seem to be a way to solve it.

>At least, not on your own.

>But what connections do you have that could even possibly help?

>Anyone from work would probably think you were a creep.

>You need help from people who know you. People who know you're not a danger to Sophia.

>Which brings Mom and Dad to mind...

>...

>Being honest with yourself, you really don't like that idea.

>They're not going to assume you're a...predator.

>But they'll come with their own problems.

>The most glaring one would be their sour opinion on anthros.

>You don't know if that's putting it lightly or not, but you do know that they're not going to be as enthusiastic of the new family member as you've been.

>Even with that, however, you know that you'll need to tell them regardless.

>Sophia's going to be their granddaughter. You can't not tell them that.

>In the past, they may or may not have unsubtly hinted that they really want to see some grandchildren from you...

>You can only hope they'll put aside whatever gripes they may have with anthros and accept Sophia as you have.

>You'll have to tell them eventually anyway... Maybe you should make the call.

>They're pretty much the only help you can get right now.

>Or... Even if they aren't any help at all, they're really your only option.

>...

>Well...

>They could make things even worse.

>As unfortunate as it is, that is a possibility.

>...

>You'll need to ease into your explanation.

>Gauge their attitude towards the situation, and go from there.

>You just need to...mentally prepare. Plan out what you'll say and all that.

>

>You take a deep breath.

>The number is dialed.

>Sophia is playing in her room.

>You asked her to, but you didn't tell her you'd be calling your parents.

>In fact, you didn't tell her you'd be calling anyone at all.

>You're hoping that Sophia doesn't have to know anything about the talk you're going to have in case your parents are very unreceptive to the idea.

>And you don't want her to be curious or even worried about any of it.

>If you hear her coming downstairs, you'll have to make a quick excuse to hang up.

>You take another moment before you hit Call.

>One ring...

>Tw—

>"Anon!" Your mom picks up. "I'm so happy you called!"

>"Hey Mom," you start. "I—"

>"Hold on," she interrupts. "Dan! Danny! It's Anon!"

>As your mom yells for him, you can just barely hear his distant voice through the line.

>"Okay Anon, I'm going to put you on speakerphone..." she tells you.

"All right. Thanks Mom."

>There's some footsteps, muffled speaking, and some harsh noises as the phone is apparently moved.

>"Hey! Anon!" The deeper voice of your dad bellows. "I was just thinking about calling you. How're you doing?"

>"Hey, Dad. I'm doing all right. So—"

>"Good, good! Hey, listen, Anon. How busy are you this week?"

>"Not...very? But Dad, can I—"

>"Perfect, because your mother and I were thinking about setting a time and driving over there. You have a guest bed at least, don't you? What time—"

>"Dad, please," you interrupt, slightly irritated of being interrupted yourself so many times. "I called because I needed to...ask something. I really just need you to listen carefully for a second."

>"Oh my, it sounds like it must be very important," your mom puts in.

>"Uh... Yeah. Well, maybe..." you realize you probably don't want to start strong with this, else it'll be hard to walk it back if you decide it's better they don't get involved.

>"All right, Anon. I'm listening," your dad says.

>"Okay, so..." you take a breath. "What would you guys say if I was thinking about adopting?"

>"Adopting...?" Your dad questions.

>"Adopting...!" Your mom gasps.

>"Hypothetically...!" You quickly put in. "Would you be...on board for that?"

>There's a long pause as your parents presumably take in what that means.

>"Well, Anon..." your mom begins. "I'll admit, that isn't how I imagined I'd get my first grandchild, but if that's what you want, then I say you should look into it."

>"Woah! Woah, Shannon! Let's not be too hasty now," your dad says. "Anon, uh, don't you think you might be doing things out of order?"

>"Out of order?"

>"Well, if you find a woman, you won't need to adopt."

>"Danny!" Your mother scolds.

>"I mean, adoption is all well and good,  kids need a home and all that, but that's mostly for people with no other options. Who can't...conceive. ...Anon, are you saying you can't..."

>"Dan, stop it!"

>Yeah... Maybe this wasn't the best idea.

>Should you shut it down now?

>"Okay, Dad. I get it."

>"I'm sorry, Anon. I don't know what got you thinking about being a parent, but it's best that you don't rush into it like this. You gotta be patient."

>"Okay, I understand."

>"Get to know a nice lady. If she's the one for you, then you can have a real son or daughter, you know?"

>You really, really want to hang up right about now.

>"All right, really, I get what you mean," you say, trying to stifle a tone of disappointment. "I gotta go now. I'll talk to you guys later, all right?"

>"Wait, Anon!" Your mom stops you. "I think your father is being a little unreasonable right now."

>"Shannon...."

>"No, let me finish!"

>Well, at least your mom seems a little more keen to the idea.

>It doesn't make you much more confident though, considering you haven't even made it to the part where you tell them you'd be adopting an anthro child.

>"If Anon wants to adopt, and he's really thought it through, then maybe he should. That's not going to be his only child, he can give us actual grandchildren later."

>"Shan, the child's not just going to disappear after he has real kids. This would be a long term commitment."

>"Maybe it will be a good thing in the long run. Anon can get some experience and practice for the real deal."

>"No, Shan, those learning experiences should be reserved for his firstborn. They're special! I still remember very clearly when Anon called me 'Dad' for the first time. You know how happy that made me? Of course you do, you felt then same way. If it's not authentic, it's not going to be impactful."

>"I guess I can see your point... Oh! How about this? Anon adopts AFTER having children. Then his kids are guaranteed to have at least one friend!"

>"Hmm... I suppose that's a possibility..."

>"So that's the way to go then! Anon, honey, are you still there? You need to wait until you actually have children. Then you can adopt!"

>"Woah, woah! After he has children, then he can CONSIDER adopting. He should talk with us again first. IF he even still wants to."

>This is fucking hopeless.

>You stare out of the living room window as you listen to their back-and-forth.

>You droop the phone down and away from your head as you let out a heavy exhale.

>There's no way in hell you're going to tell them about Sophia now. At least, not until she's legally part of the family.

>Why are they acting like they ultimately decide how and why you have children...?

>There are few worse turns this conversation could have taken.

>"...Dad?"

>You jump at the soft voice behind you.

>You turn to see Sophia, looking back at you with a sheet of paper in her paws.

>Fuck...! When did she—?

>"Anon?" Your dad's voice rings out from your phone. "Did I just hear—?"

>You hastily bring the phone back up to your head.

>"H-Hold on, sorry. Something just came up, so I really gotta go now. Talk to you later...!"

>"Ano—?"

>Beep.

>...

>Fuck.

>They heard her.

>That wasn't...supposed to happen....

>You can only hope that they couldn't make out what she called you.

>...

>Sophia appears to have noticed how some of the color had flushed from your face, because the same thing happens to her.

>"...A-Are you okay?" She makes out meekly, beginning to stutter and clearly suspecting she did something wrong. "I-I didn't s-see the phone. I'm sorry, d-did I...?"

>As worried as you are right now, the last thing you want to do is scare Sophia.

>"Don't worry about it, Sophie. I was looking for an excuse to get out of that call anyway, so really I should be thanking you," you say, trying to sell a sly smirk in spite of your worry. "Uh, what do you have there?"

>"O-Oh. I tried writing...words," she explains, looking back down at the paper. "I was...gonna ask if I did it right...."

>"Writing? That's great, Sophie!" You praise. "Let me see. I'll check it for you."

>Your positive attitude seems to have won back her confidence.

>She takes a few easy steps up to you, and holds out the paper.

>"I-It might not...be good," she tells you as you take the paper from her.

>"That's all right. I'm not even done teaching you how to read," you say. "No matter what, I'll be proud you at least tried."

>That gets a timid smile out of her... Just before she gets startled by the ring of your phone, jumping back slightly.

>You take a quick check to confirm the obvious: it's Mom and Dad.

>Why didn't you put it on silent? You should've realized they'd call you back immediately.

>You mute it and stuff it in your pocket.

>"Sorry, Sophie. I didn't mean for that to scare you," you apologize, feeling guilty that your phone surprised her.

>"It's okay," she responds. "...Who was it?"

>"Eh... Don't worry about it. It's nothing important..." you dodge her question. "Now, let's see...."

>You hold up the paper so you can read, hopefully, it's contents.

>Each sentence was written using a different colored crayon, and a few had accompanying pictures.

>You start from the topmost sentences and work your way down.

>MY NAME IS SOPHIA

>I HAV A NOOW DAD

>I NO ALL LETRS

>I HAV A RABIT

>I WONT TO RITE WERDS

>I LUV MY NOOW HOME

>A few of them, whether because of the spelling errors or the scribbled handwriting, needed to be reread once or twice before you  could decipher what Sophia was going for.

>But you're able to do so fairly quickly, and you begin to glow with pride.

>"Sophie, you did great!" You beam. "I can read them all."

>"I-I did? I did it right...?"

>"There's a few spelling mistakes here or there..." you admit. "...But nothing so major that I can't understand it. We can go over it during your lessons. Otherwise, you did a fantastic job writing full sentences by yourself for the first time."

>"Really...?! Thank you!" She smiles, tail beginning to wag. "I tried sounding out the words I don't know."

>You reach over and give her a few rewarding pats on the head, which seems to amplify all the showings of her happiness.

>"You've really impressed me, you know that? I haven't even started giving you writing lessons."

>"Hehehe...! Thank you, Dad!" She cheers.

>It looks as if she's attempting to give off a confident, even prideful smirk, but she's too shy and modest to pull it off.

>As a result, she ends up looking a little dorky...

>...

>A cute little dork.

>"All right, Sophie. I'm going to need to make a call real quick," you explain, handing the paper back to her. "Could you give me a minute?"

>"Oh, okay," she says, taking the paper.

>She gives you one last happy glance before twirling around and walking off with a skip in her step.

>...

>Your smile drops once she's out of view.

>That moment would have been much more enjoyable if you weren't worried about what your parents might have heard her call you.

>What are you supposed to tell them...?

>What will they do if they think you adopted a kid?

>...You suppose that the best course of action is calling them back and figuring that out.

>Conveniently, you got another call from them right that moment.

>Though their insistent calls isn't a good sign...

>"Hey, Mom. Dad," you answer. "Sorry about that. I, uh, well..."

>"Anon," your dad's voice emits from the phone. "...Was that a kid?"

>"Huh...?" You gulp. "What do you mean...?"

>"Before you hung up on us, there was another voice..."

>"I don't know—"

>"...that called you 'Dad'."

>Shit...

>"Anon... You adopted a kid?" He asks with a restrained tone of disbelief. "Without telling us?"

>Well... Playing dumb didn't work.

>Might as well admit it. It'll be easier to learn what, if anything, they want to do about it.

>"...All right. Yes, I did," you say with a sigh. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you two. I suppose I should, uh, explain things."

>"...Anon. Why would you—"

>"Oh! You know what we should do now, instead of talking about it over the phone...?!" Your mom interrupts excitedly.

>"What...?" You and your dad say in sync.

>"We need to come over!" She answers. "If we leave right this second, we may be able to get there before midnight!"

>"Wait, wait. Hold on...!" You cut in. "Are you inviting yourselves over?!"

>"Anon, if you adopted a child, then as your parents, we are obligated to see her."

>"That's not a good idea...!" You spout. "I'm...not prepared for guests!"

>"Oh, we're not going to be guests. We're family!"

>That...doesn't mean they still aren't guests.

>"...I don't have a guest bed."

>"We can cross that bridge when we come it," she responds dismissively. "Come on, Danny. We need to go right this minute!"

>"Wait, Mom, please. You really can't come over." You plead. "Dad? Tell her...!"

>"...She's right, Anon." He says bluntly. "We have a lot to discuss."

>...He can't be serious.

>"Well all right, Anon. We're going to get going right now. Ooh, I'm so excited! We'll talk about this once we get there." Mom says. "Let's go, Dan. Do you remember the address?"

>Beep.

>...

>This is bad.

>This is really bad.

>If your parents come over, they're going to find out that Sophia is an anthro.

>You can't imagine their reaction will be  very positive....

>Could you just...not let them inside?

>...No. Completely barring them from entering your house in the dead of night might actually make your parents suspicious about your intentions with Sophia.

>If you don't let them inside after they make the trip, regardless of whether or not you're ready for visitors, they're going to wonder why.

>It doesn't make you feel better that the only information they have is that you have a kid in your house that you desperately tried to keep a secret from them.

>Hell, your dad sounded plenty suspicious over the phone.

>...

>...Well, Sophia should be fast asleep by the time they'll get here.

>And telling them about her is something that you needed to do eventually.

>...

>You'll let them in. You'll tell them a little bit about Sophia.

>Whether they like it or not, Sophia being an anthro will give them a reason for why you've hidden this from them.

>But after that? You don't know.

>The important thing is that they don't find out Sophia isn't legally adopted, else you worry they'd actively oppose your efforts to make it official.

>Regardless, this whole situation is incredibly frustrating.

>On a whim, they just decided to come over to your place, disregarding all your protests.

>You should have known that you couldn't keep them out of the picture for long.

>At the very least, you've been warned they're coming over. Thinking about it, it was very likely they would have come over for a surprise visit after a long enough period.

>You at least have the chance to prepare.

>Maybe this is a good thing.

>But, it sure as hell doesn't feel like it....

>"So Sophie," you say as you tuck her in for the night. "I've got something important to tell you before I go."

>"Hm?" She peers at you with curious eyes.

>"There's going to be...people coming over tonight."

>"P-People...?!" She yelps. "...Who?"

>You can't say you blame her reaction.

>You're the only person she's been with and interacted with for months.

>The last and only person you can remember her being with was Larry, who tried to sell he was homeless, and used Sophia as a means to get more charity.

>"It's okay, Sophie..." You try to comfort her. "You don't need to worry. I'm just going to have a quick talk with them, and they'll be on their way. You should be asleep through the whole thing."

>"O-Oh..." she utters. "...B-But who are they?"

>Should you tell her about your parents?

>...It's probably better if you don't.

>If you have a major disagreement with them about Sophia, and it's very likely you will, then you're going to want to keep them far away from her.

>She'd be curious to why your parents came over and you didn't introduce her to them, seeing as she's your daughter now.

>You'd need to be so evasive answering her questions so she wouldn't know her grandparents just don't want her to be part of the family.

>But she'd probably have her suspicions regardless. After all, why else wouldn't she get to meet her grandparents while she has the opportunity?

>...Yeah. As cruel as it is, you're probably going to have to kick them out of your house. It's best Sophia doesn't know about this.

>You'll help them find a place in the city to spend the night.

>You really hope you're wrong. You really, really hope they'll accept Sophia.

>There may be a chance, but you have a feeling you'll need to really convince them...

>...

>For now, you'll have to keep Sophia in the dark. If your parents surprise you, then maybe you can introduce her.

>"...It's just some business stuff. Don't worry about it."

>"...Okay."

>You give her a gentle head rub once she's snuggly tucked in.

>"Just letting you know, in case you wake up and hear voices you don't recognize," you tell her. "If that happens, just go back to sleep, all right?"

>"Okay," she repeats.

>"All right," you stand up. "If you've got all that, then good night, Sophie."

>"Good night," she responds as you walk to the door and flick the light. "...Love you."

>"Love you, too."

>With that, you step out of her room, gently closing the door behind you.

>...

>Well, you may as well get some things ready as you wait for them to arrive.

>You'll talk with them in the living room.

>Once you get there, you set every picture that includes Sophia face-down.

>After you tell them she's a wolf, you can lift them back up, proof that you're happy together regardless of species.

>But what would be the best way to initially tell them?

>...No, you won't simply tell them. You'll show them that Sophia's an anthro, using the video you took on her "birthday".

>Maybe if that's how they first witness Sophia, they'll be more inclined to welcome her to the family.

>You can only hope things will turn out well....

>

>You feel as if you're about to fall asleep yourself before you notice the headlights of a car that parked in front of your house.

>Peering into the darkness, you can definitely tell...

>That's their car.

>You take a deep breath. A very deep one at that.

>It feels as if you need to give a speech that you've barely practiced for.

>...Well, that's basically what this is going to be.

>You'll tell them you've adopted a kid, try to sell them on the idea that she's their grandchild, and then again after you reveal she's a wolf.

>If they're going to be difficult, then they aren't staying here.

>Harsh, but that's what they get for inviting themselves over. You're not going to have them near Sophia if they're going to make her feel inadequate.

>Even the smallest hint of disapproval will likely make Sophia feel like shit for days.

>And you sure as hell don't want them giving her the idea that she'll never be your real daughter.

>The car doors open, and your parents emerge.

>It's been a while since you've last seen them, and this isn't exactly what you'd hoped their visit would be for.

>Even from inside, you can hear they're having some sort of argument.

>While you can't quite make out their words, their tone seems to be painting the picture for you.

>Mom sounds insistent and optimistic, while Dad sounds more dismissive and tired.

>Your mom was much more open to the idea of you adopting a kid than your dad was, albeit she seems to see the kid's purpose as more of a learning experience, or friend to her "real grandchildren", than actual family.

>And your dad's obviously not a fan of the whole thing at all.

>You don't like your chances in convincing them...

>But for Sophia, you need to try.

>Opening the front door, you step outside to meet them halfway.

>Whatever conversation they were having is immediately shelved as they see you.

>"Anon!" Your mom cheers, quickening her pace to give you a hug. "It's been too long since we've seen you!"

>"Hey, Mom," you greet back with a bit forced enthusiasm. "Good to see you again, but I really wished you had listened to me...."

>"Oh, don't fret about it. We won't cause you any trouble!"

>You pray.

>After your mom lets go of you, you see your dad step up to you.

>"So, Anon..." he starts. "...I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

>"Yeah... I'll, uh, explain everything."

>All he gives back is a short, unemotional stare.

>"Danny? Why don't you give your son a hug? You haven't seen him in so long!"

>"This isn't the time for it, Shannon."

>Yeesh... Is he angry...?

>You weren't expecting a hug from him, but...

>Well, he's not usually this stoic either.

>"...Come in," you say, holding the door open for them. "Let's discuss this in the living room."

>"Why thank you, Anon," your mom says as she walks in.

>Your dad stays silent.

>"So, where is she?" Your mom asks, taking in the interior of your home. "I'm very eager to meet—!"

>"Shh...!" You interrupt, earning a surprised look from her. "She's asleep. Let's...talk a little quieter so we don't wake her up."

>"Oh..." your mom responds in a slightly hushed voice. "Can't she just be awake to meet us? I wouldn't want to wait until tomorrow. Isn't she expecting to see us as well?"

>"Sorry, Mom. But she really needs to be asleep right now." You tell her. "I can...show you some pictures. Just follow me to the living room."

>"Oh, fine," she disappointedly pouts.

>You lead the two of them to the living room, and gesture to the couch.

>Once they've sat themselves down, you take another breath. Though your father beats you to the punch.

>"So... You really did adopt a kid, Anon?"

>All right. Here we go...

>"Yes. Her name is Sophia, and she's been with me since winter," you explain. "I know you two don't like that I've done this..."

>"Who said that?" Your mom cuts in. "...Well, your father, maybe. But I think it's not a bad idea."

>"...Do you?" You ask with genuine curiosity.

>"What do you mean?"

>"On the phone, it sounded like..." how do you phrase this? "...Like an adopted child can never...be 'real' family. Like there's always going to be something that's missing."

> It takes a few seconds before your mother responds.

>"Well, Anon," she begins. "Now I'm sure that this Sophia is a very sweet child and all, but—"

>"Okay," You really don't want to hear what she'll say next. You get the idea. "So I was right?"

>"Anon..."

>"Am I right?"

>"Anon, that doesn't mean I'm going to hate the child...!"

>You sigh. It really is hard to contain your disappointment hearing all that from her.

>"Listen, guys... I've been living here with Sophia longer than without her. I've been taking care of her. I'm teaching her how to read..." you explain. "...Even if we're not related by blood, she's still my daughter, and I love her as such."

>Your parents give you differing expression, though neither being ideal.

>Your mom looks bewildered and slightly taken aback.

>Your dad's hasn't changed: serious and unresponsive.

>"I know you two see this differently than I do, and I'm sorry it took so long for you to find out," you continue. "But please. I need you guys to give her a chance. She's my daughter, and I want her to be your granddaughter too. If you can't do that, you need to tell me."

>With that said, you await their answer.

>"...Anon," your mom begins after a while. "Are you really happy taking care of this girl?"

>"The happiest I can ever remember being."

>Another pause.

>"...Can I see her?" Your mom asks.

>"...Not yet. But I can show you a video," you answer, pulling out your phone. "We celebrated her birthday recently."

>Well, here it is. The big reveal.

>You scroll through a few photos of the happy wolf you took on her "birthday" until you get to the video.

>"...Before I show you this, I should restate that I consider Sophia to be my daughter, and I don't love her any less for being adopted. No matter how different we are."

>"Different?" Your father mouths.

>You take a deep breath, again, before lying your phone on the table in front of them and hitting the play button.

>Your parents watch expectantly, though Sophia herself hasn't entered the frame yet.

>"All right, Sophia! You can come down now!" Your voice calls from the video.

>"Okay...!" Her voice responds.

>"Well, that's a cute voice..." your mother remarks.

>Pat! Pat! Pat! Pat! Pat!

>And then, she turns the corner, revealing Sophia to be much more gray and furry than your parents would have guessed...

>Your mother's sharp gasp feels like a punch in the gut.

>Your dad gives the first reaction you've seen from him today: his eyes widen so far it looks like they'd roll right out of his head, and his eyebrows shoot up so high that they almost get lost in his hair.

>"Happy birthday, Sophie!"

>Your parents, much like Sophia in the video, are too stunned to speak.

>They continue to watch as Sophia looks around at the party decorations in amazement.

>"You did this...all for me?"

>"Of course. Today's your birthday, Sophie. You deserve a good one."

>"...Thank you, Dad."

>...

>Even after the video is done, your parents continue to stare at your phone.

>It's only when you awkwardly take it back that they turn their gaze to you.

>"She's...an anthro," your mother states bluntly.

>"She is."

>"..."

>Within the silence, you step over to the pictures you had turned face down, and grab one in particular.

>It's the picture you first took of Sophia, and framed yourself.

>You set it down for them to see.

>You and Sophia, happy to be together. Father and daughter.

>"...I'm still asking if you'll give her a chance. I did, and that was the best decision I've made. I'm happy with her, and she's happy with me. I'm telling you, the adoption was a great thing for the both of us."

>More silence.

>They simply just stare at the photo.

>The silence is finally broken by a deep exhale from your father's nose.

>He slowly rises from his seat, and his eyes glare at you, windows to his thoughts on this matter:

>Disapproval.

>"...Anon," he starts, with a tone to match his gaze. "That is not your daughter."

>...

>Your dad really...just said that to you.

>Looked you right in the eyes.

>No build up. No sugar coating.

>...

>You don't know which one of you is more disappointed in the other.

>"You don't get to decide that," you respond, trying to avoid a cold retort.

>"Yes—" he stops himself. "...Anon, it's a fact. By nature, she's not yours."

>"I've already told you, that doesn't matter to me. And besides, she's got no one else."

>"I'm telling you this for your own good!" He scolds.

>"Quiet!" You shoot back, followed by  you pointing at the ceiling to remind them that Sophia's sleeping upstairs.

>Your mother, meanwhile, looks like a deer in headlights.

>You rub your temple.

>"...This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you guys," you look back at your dad. "Are you really going to try to convince me that all the time I've spent with her means nothing?"

>"What I'm trying to tell you is that whatever this paternal episode you're having isn't real."

>"How would you know?"

>"Because you're my son! Anon, you're never going to know how it feels to be a parent until you can see yourself in your kid's face! Not only is there no relation between you and this kid, but you aren't even the same species! Once you have a real child, you'll understand that whatever you're feeling now isn't even worth a comparison."

>"Anon, please..." your mom puts in before you can respond to your dad. "Your father is right. You can't have an anthro daughter."

>"You can't tell me how I feel about this. You haven't even met Sophia...."

>You're really starting to lose your patience here.

>You knew this was a long short, but...

>This is playing out just about the worst it could have gone.

>"I'm sorry Anon, but somebody needs to tell you this. That 'Sophia' is not your family. She is not OUR family. Where did you adopt her from? You oughta put her back in the system before it's too late!"

>"All right, I've heard enough," you let out angrily.  "Nothing you say is going to change this...! This was my decision, not yours...! If you aren't going to give Sophia a chance, fine. But if that's how it's gonna be, then you need to..."

>You stop.

>Pat. Pat. Pat...

>That noise...coming from upstairs...

>Your parents heard it too, and the three of you stare upwards at the ceiling.

>...

>She wasn't awake, was she...?

>Your heart plummets.

>Even your parents look like they're worried that they made a terrible mistake.

>...

>The absolute silence permeates even your thoughts.

>...

>It was so quiet, that it didn't matter that Sophia was upstairs behind a closed door.

>If a pin drop could easily be heard, then Sophia's first sob was deafening.

>...

>She heard them.

>Oh God, how much did she hear...?

>In sync, you and your parents look back down at each other.

>"...Get out of my house."

>"Anon...?!" Your mom gasps.

>"Anon—"

>"No. I've heard enough. SHE'S heard enough. Get out."

>Your mother looks horrified.

>And your dad is trying to hold an unwavering front, but a slight shake in his pupils give away that he's taken aback by your blunt authority.

>"W-Where are we supposed to stay? Anon, you can't just kick us out...!" Your mother quivers.

>"No, it's fine, Shannon," your dad says, trying to make a statement by locking eyes with you. "Let's go."

>Your dad lets his glare at you linger before finally turning to the exit.

>Your mom alternates between looking at him and you in a panic.

>"But...! Danny, what about...?!" She turns to you. "A-Anon! Are you really going to do this...?!"

>You shouldn't have let them stay as long as they have.

>"I shouldn't even have let you two inside in the first place."

>The statement visibly hurts your mom, but you can't show any regret for it.

>This is what happens when they make your daughter cry.

>If they're not going to apologize, then you can't be forgiving.

>Your mom catches up with your dad as he makes his way to the front door.

>There's brief silence as you and your father stare each other down, but upon hearing another sob in the distance, he opens the door.

>"Wait, Dan! Danny!" Your mom pleads as the two of them walk outside. "Are we really going to leave Anon like this...?!"

>"You heard him. This is his decision. We've done what we can to help, but it looks like this is something he'll have to learn on his own."

>"Listen," you say, stepping out after them. Both your parents stop and turn to you. "I'm only going to say this once. Each of you get one phone call. If you call me, and the first thing I hear isn't an apology, to me AND Sophia, then I'm hanging up and blocking your number."

>"You can't be serious...! Anon!" Your mother pleads.

>"...Look at yourself, Anon. You're willing to tear our family apart like this?" Your dad asks, still trying to appear as stoic as ever.

>"That's up for you to decide," you respond, turning around and heading back to your house.

>You think about turning back. Saying something else, something less harsh before what potentially could be a long time before you see them again.

>They are your parents after all.

>...But you don't.

>This is for Sophia. It may be the only way to get it into their stubborn heads that you're willing to do anything for your daughter.

>And if they're going to be like this, then you need to prevent them from finding out Sophia isn't legally adopted at all costs.

>You can feel their gazes on your back, but they don't say anything more. Not even your mom.

>You close the door behind yourself.

>...

>Damn it...!

>Why the hell do they have to be like that?!

>Damn it! God damn it!

>Invite themselves to your place...! Tell you Sophie isn't part of the family...! Make her cry...!

>You can't believe it.

>...

>Fuck... All right...

>Calm down now...

>You've kept her waiting too long. You need to calm down.

>You take a deep breath and collect yourself.

>...

>...Okay.

>Trying to block your parents out of your mind, you make your way upstairs to Sophia's room.

>With every step, her sniffles and sobs get louder.

>"...Sophie?" You say softly, slowly opening the door and peering in.

>Through the faint glow of her nightlight, you can see that Sophia's sitting on her bed, curled up into a ball and crying into her pajama top.

>It pains you to see, to say the very least.

>"I-I-I'm s-sorry, A-Anon..." She tearfully stutters. "I-I'm s-s-sorry...."

>You hurry over to her side, and sit down next her.

>"Sophie, listen to me. None of that was your fault," you tell her, reaching to pull her close. "...How much did you hear?"

>Sophia begins to uncurl at your touch, making it easier for you to place her in your arms.

>Her face is absolutely drenched with tears.

>She let's out a shaking breath before answering.

>"...I-I woke u-up from a b-bad dream, a-and I f-forgot what you s-said. I wanted to s-see you, b-but then I h-heard..." she stops short, accompanied by another sob. "I'm s-so sorry I made y-you f-fight with your mom and d-dad...."

>"Sophie... Sophie. Look at me," you say, putting a hand to her cheek to gently guide her towards you.

>You wipe some tears from her face, though those are quickly replaced.

>"My parents don't know you. Anything they say about you means nothing," you explain. "It's not your fault that they think they can dictate how I see you."

>You pull her into a hug, wrapping your arms around her and comfortingly rubbing her back.

>"You are my daughter, Sophie. I love you. That's not going to change." You say. "I'm never going to abandon you."

>She sniffles.

>"...I-I w-wish I was y-your real d-daughter...." she trembles, clinging to you tight.

>"You are."

>

>Half an hour later and the hug still isn't broken.

>It took you a minute to realize that Sophia eventually fell asleep in your arms.

>But even then, you don't want to let go.

>After the argument with your parents, and the fact that Sophia overheard it, there's nothing more you want to do than comfort her, even in her dreams.

>You just want to hold your daughter...

>...

>A faint light shines from your pocket.

>It's your phone, with an incoming call.

>There's no ring, as you had set it to Silent.

>You slide it out with one hand and check it.

>...It's Mom.

>...

>An apology better be the first thing you hear.

>Though very hesitant, you gently set Sophia back down onto her bed.

>Before too long, you answer the phone, standing at the threshold of Sophia's room.

>"...Well?" You say sternly, waiting for her response.

>"A-Anon..." your mother's voice says. "...Please. We need to talk more about this."

>You glance over at Sophia's form, taking further notice of how messed up her fur had become as a result of her crying.

>"We're not trying to hurt you. We just want what's best—"

>Beep.

>...

>God damn it...

>You told her. Why the hell didn't she listen?

>Did she think you were bluffing...?

>Well, you're not, as proven when you follow through on blocking her number from your phone.

>You really didn't want to have to do that, but you need to hold firm.

>You step back over to Sophia's bedside.

>They hurt her today. They hurt your child.

>That is not something you'll ever take lightly, even if it's your parents who did it.

>Nobody is going to tell you that Sophia isn't your daughter.

***

You wake up feeling your arm wrapped tightly by something. As your eyes drift open, and your senses come back to you, you slowly turn your head over to the source. It's Sophia, still asleep and hugging tight against you.

You remember what happened last night. After you hung up on your mom, you took Sophia back to your room, so you could comfort her even as you yourself drifted to sleep. You don't remember her waking up at all though. Did she grab your arm in her sleep, or had she awoken at some point? Regardless, you let her stay as she is. She'll wake up when she wakes up. Until then, you'll continue to comfort her as best you can.

She looks better than before, but that isn't saying too much. You hope that Sophia will be able bounce back soon from what she overheard, but you won't blame her if she can't.

The poor girl.

To your knowledge, you're the only person who hasn't treated her as a burden, or just mistreated her in general. For her to hear your parents say all that... Well, if she's not going to get any love from her grandparents, you'll do your best to compensate as her father. If you're the only person who can give her the love she deserves, then you'll do all you can.

You're pulled out of your thoughts as Sophia adjusts herself next to you. Looking over, you notice her closed eyelids twitch, before slowly opening a smidge.

"Hey, Sophie..." you say soothingly. "You awake?"

It takes a moment before she gives a tired nod.

"Do you want to stay in bed a little longer?"

Another nod.

"...Would you like me to stay with you?"

There's a pause before you feel the pressure relieve itself from your arm, and you hear a tired, gentle voice.

"...Y-You don't...have to..." she utters weakly as she frees you from her grasp. You put your arm around her in response, and gently pull her closer.

"I don't mind. I'd rather be here with you if that's what you want."

"...Th-Thank you...."

With that, you continue to hold her into you. She almost feels like a particularly large teddy bear in your grasp, but her warmth, breaths, and subtle movements assure you she's something so much more. She's a little girl with her own thoughts and feelings, who needs guidance, attention, and love. She's your daughter... She's YOUR daughter, regardless of blood. Regardless of how your parents see her. No matter what, you are going to lovingly care for her. Sophia is your responsibility, not your burden.

More time passes as the two of you continue to lay there. You spent that time gently stroking Sophia's large, pointed ears, trying to be as soothing a presence as you can. It seems you're successful, as Sophia had gradually shifted throughout the process, and ended up more snuggled up against you than before. You hold her close, feeling both her hair and fur brush between your fingers. Although you're willing to stay with her as long as she needs, every minute she spends in bed increasingly hints to you how depressed she still is from last night. Thinking about that further encourages you to comfort her as best you can. It's only when you hear the quiet rumble of her stomach that you speak up again.

"...Sounds like you're hungry," you remark. "How about I make you some breakfast?"

"...Okay," she responds, devoid of enthusiasm.

"What are you feeling? I can make you an omelette, or we've got some cereal...."

"...Anything's fine."

"You sure? I'll make you anything you'd like."

"It's okay."

"Oh. Well... I'll make you an omelette," you say, beginning to lift yourself out of bed. Sophia, who had cradled herself against your chest at this point, shifts away so you have an easier time getting up. As you sit yourself up on the edge of the bed, you look down at her, lying on her side, and scrunched up under the covers. She looks back at you with eyes just barely open, and seemingly struggling to stay that way. You give her one more gentle stroke underneath the ear. "...I'll bring it up here when it's ready."

"Thank y-you..." she mumbles.

As you stand up from the bed, you take a quick glance at the clock. It's no wonder she's hungry. It's closer to lunchtime than breakfast. Yet still, it seems like she's going to stay in bed a little longer. It hurts you thinking about how much your parents' words affected her. You hope that your own words and actions are enough to sway Sophia away from the idea she isn't part of the family. You will never, ever even entertain the thought of abandoning her. Hell, it feels bad enough to leave her alone right now, but just because she's sad doesn't mean you'll let her starve. You get one last look at her before walking out of the room.

After you've made your way downstairs to the kitchen, you retrieve a couple of eggs, some cheese, and some shredded chicken meat from the refrigerator. Sophia already enjoys anything you cook for her, but adding bits of chicken, no matter the dish, always seems to amplify her opinion on whatever she eats. Chicken omelettes, as such, are one of her favorite meals. Even though you're no master chef by any means, omelettes have been a relatively easy and quick meal to prepare, and you feel that each one has been better than the last. You try to make that doubly true for this one. Whatever efforts you can attempt to help Sophia cheer up, or at least feel a little bit better, you will try. Though they're hard to hear through the sizzle of the eggs in the pan, you eventually begin to hear soft footsteps making their way downstairs.

Sophia turns the corner, still in her crescent moon pajamas. She approaches with such little energy and commitment that it almost appears as if she has a limp. She has a bad case of bed-head...and bed-fur, you suppose...and her eyes act as the vanguard of her tired expression. Her ears hang lower than usual, and her general posture gives the impression she's carrying some sort of weight on her. Put simply, she looks absolutely miserable.

"Sophie..." you start with an evident tone of concern, though you're not sure what to say. You feel the anger you had felt to your parents last night flare up again. "...How are you feeling?"

As Sophia looks back at you, with worry written all over your face, it's as if she comes to some sort of realization. She straightens her posture, and revitalizes her movement a bit. With one paw, she tries to rub the tiredness out of her eyes.

"...I'm okay," she returns meekly.

You give back an unconvinced look, obviously still concerned about her emotional well-being. You don't want her to be deflecting her true feelings with "okay"s and "fine"s, but you also don't want her to feel like she's pressured to tell you them either.

"Well... If you wanted to eat down here, you came just in time," you say. "Your omelette is just about ready."

With your spatula, you fold the omelette and plate it. In your eyes, it looks to be a personal best, though that'll be up for Sophia to decide. Once you grab some silverware, and pour a small glass of orange juice, Sophia's breakfast is ready to be served. You set the meal down at the dining room table, and pull a chair back for her.

"Thank you, D-Dad," she speaks with a little more energy than before, though it's unknown if that's because she's waking up, or trying to mask her negative emotions. "...It looks really good."

Despite your worry, you give Sophia a warm smile as she walks over and sits herself down. You watch how she takes small cuts out of the omelette, and how she chews much slower than she usually does. Normally, Sophia would tear through a meal like that, and her enjoyment would clearly be evident in her face. But here, she's barely emotive, sometimes staring blankly forward, sometimes shifting her eyes toward the ground for no apparent reason. The only exception was when she noticed you looking at her, and she tried to lift her muzzle into a little smile. Though if she were looking in a mirror, she'd see that she really wasn't achieving what she was going for.

"Sophie..." you begin, sitting down at the table despite not having a meal yourself. "...If there's anything you need, or just want to say, I'm here to listen. Anything you want to let out, I'm here."

She blinks, and her attempted smile falls. There's a moment of silence as you wait for any kind of response. Her eyes move down and back, as if she's considering what to say. When she look back at you, she takes a short breath before speaking.

"...A-Are there any more chores I can do?"

"You...want to do more chores?"

She nods.

"...You sure, Sophie? You know, we could continue your lessons, or play a game together instead, or anything like that," you suggest.

"...It's okay," she responds simply. "I can do chores."

She wants to do chores... That isn't typically what a kid would want to do when they're sad. But then again, unlike any other kid you've met, Sophia's the only one who's been eager and willing to do work around the house. Though you know that's because she doesn't want to be seen as useless, and that she wants to give back for what you've done for her. You've already made it clear that she isn't obligated to do anything like that, as taking her in was your decision. Although you're unsure about it, you think that maybe it'll help her feel better regardless.

"Well, if you really want to..." you begin, trying to think about what needs to be done that she is able to do, though it's difficult to come up with anything the two of you haven't already done recently. "...I guess we haven't dusted in a while. Not too recently, anyway. But Sophie, are you sure?"

"I'll do i-it," she nods her head, before turning back to her omelette and cutting another small piece.

"...All right, Sophie. I'll get you a dust cloth or two after breakfast," you tell her. "If there's anything else you'd like to tell me, I'll listen."

She only gives another nod, slowly chewing on her breakfast. Unfortunately, she doesn't speak up for the rest of the meal. You don't try to pressure her into any further conversation. Instead, you let her concentrate on eating as you get to work on your own omelette. The finished product wasn't as good-looking as Sophia's, but that didn't mean it tasted bad. Despite the fact that Sophia got a head start, the two of you finish around the same time. However, as soon as she realizes you're both done, she seems to gain the slightest burst of energy as she stands up.

"...I'll t-take the plates to the sink," she tells you, taking hers with both hands, walking over to you, and setting her empty plate on yours after moving the silverware and cups to the top. You decide to walk with her as she makes her way to the kitchen sink. If she falls, or otherwise needs help, you'll be there. You're not sure what you're worried about though, it's not difficult for Sophia to carry two plates, cups, and two sets of silverware a couple feet. Her greatest hurdle was the height of the counter, but she surmounted that by standing on her toes... Or, was she straightening her legs? It's a little hard to tell when her feet seem more digitigrade than plantigrade.

"Thank you, Sophie," you say as you give her a gentle head rub, which she leans into so subtly you don't realize it at first. As you do so, you notice again how messy her fur and hair have become. It's been like that since she cried last night, and only worsened the longer she stayed in bed. "...Hey, your fur's a little all over the place. Maybe you'll feel a little better after a shower?"

Sophia looks over her arms and legs in response. She pats down a particularly rough patch of fur on her arm, only for it to lift itself back up. After a brief amount of consideration, she gives the slightest nod in agreement, and wordlessly makes her way out of the kitchen and upstairs. You follow after her, witnessing how she grabs the first available outfit from her closet (which was more of a bar you had hung up in her room since there wasn't an actual closet) before pivoting to the bathroom. You meet her at the doorway.

"All right. Just...give a shout if you need anything," you tell her.

"...Okay. Thanks, Dad," she responds softly, a fresh set of fresh clothes in hand. Once she steps inside, you reach forward and close the door behind her, and step away to give her privacy.

After you hear the shower head turn off, and later the door open, you step out of your room to meet her again. Having changed out of her pajamas, she now dons a plain, maroon dress with short sleeves. Her slightly damp fur, while looking better than before, wasn't as well groomed as you would have hoped. Usually she does a very good job of it herself, but this definitely wasn't one of her better works. When she turns to you, her expression flips from a slightly tired look to a faulty smile.

"...I feel better now," she tells you. While her head is turned towards you, her eyes seem to miss their mark, instead peering a little to the side. Along with that unsteady smile, she looks more guilty than happy.

"...Sophie, come here," you say over a sigh. Her faux-smile finally falls at that, and she quickly puts herself at your side. You guide her to your bathroom mirror and pick up a brush.

"O-Oh. I can..." she starts, but stops herself as you begin brushing her head hair. You take great care in ensuring no strand sticks out, and are especially careful around her ears. Once her hair has been thoroughly brushed, your free hand takes one of her own hands, and gently lifts her arm up to be parallel to the ground. From there, you run the brush from just below her sleeve down to her wrist.

It's a surprisingly relaxing experience, seemingly for Sophia as well as she loosens up and moves as you need her to. Whatever's in that canine conditioner is really working wonders. The bristles run smoothly through her fur, and even the messiest spaces give virtually no resistance.

"Sophie..." you begin as you continue to brush her. "...Please don't try to pretend you're okay when you're not. I need to know when you need help. Please...don't hide that from me. We don't have to talk about it, but at least allow me to be there for you."

Her eyes drift away from you as you move on to her other arm, and her head moves down slightly. She takes a long breath, as if preparing to say something, but she doesn't respond. She only leans closer into you. Your own response is to give her a one-armed hug.

Once you've gotten Sophia's hair and fur groomed as well as you could, you give her a light pat on the shoulder.

"Now, do you still want to dust? You really don't need to do it if you'd rather do something else."

"...I'll do it," she puts simply. Well, if she wants to, you'll let her. You just don't want her to feel she's worthless otherwise.

"All right, Sophie. There should be a clean dust rag on top of the dryer," you inform her, looking at her through the mirror. She takes you lifting your hand off her shoulder as her go-ahead to get started, and begins to walk away. Before she gets too far, she stops and looks back at you.

"...Thank you...for the brushing."

"Of course, Sophie."

Once Sophia steps out of your room, you look back at yourself in the mirror. You can see the sad and worrisome look on your face. It's obvious Sophia is still hurting after last night. You just wish she'd be more open about it, or at the very least, not attempt to convince you she's all right. You take a deep breath as you contemplate what could be done. Maybe you'll think of something during your own shower. It's just difficult to know what should be done when Sophia is actively trying not to "bother" you....

After you've showered, dried your hair, and put Sophia and your clothes in the laundry chute, you make your way downstairs. You want to check up on her, and see how she's fairing. You're much more concerned about that than how well a job she's done dusting the living room.

"Hey, Sophie. How are you...doing," you ask as you turn the corner, only to find her back toward you, completely still. The dust rag sits on the table next to her as she holds something in her arms. Though you can't see what it is, you can tell by the empty spot on the table that it was one of the picture frames. Using process of elimination, you soon realize which one she's holding.

"Sophie..." you start, stepping forward. That seems to get a reaction out of her, as she quickly sets the picture back on the table, although she still doesn't turn around. A quick glance at the picture confirms that it was the one you thought of: The happy picture of a younger you and your parents. Though you can only see the back of her head, her lowered ears, and her performing a quick wipe of her eyes, tell you how she's fairing. You put a hand on her shoulder, which gets no reaction. "...I know you're not feeling well. Do you want to talk about it?"

"...I-It's okay," she answers back in an unsteady tone that's trying to be assuring. "I can be t-tough. I-I can handle it."

"It doesn't make you any less tough for you to let out what you need to."

The angle you view her at, to her side and a little bit behind, makes it difficult to see her expression. And it certainly doesn't help that she's purposely turning her head away from you a bit.

"I-I don't want t-to keep c-crying all the t-time. I d-don't want t-to be a p-problem child."

"That doesn't make you a problem child. Not at all," you assure her. "It's okay to cry. That's better than bottling up your feelings until you can't deal with them anymore."

"B-But I do it so much...."

"Because you've been given a lot of reasons to, Sophie," you tell her calmly. "I don't blame you."

"But I w-want to be tough. I-I want to s-stop being a-annoying...."

"I'll tell you this as many times as I need too: You're not annoying."

"W-Well... Y-You're the o-only person w-who thinks that...!" She spouts, finally turning to you with an expression of frustration and tears.

Your eyes widen, and you're so floored that you don't have an immediate response. Is that...anger? From Sophia? You almost don't believe it. If you were asked to imagine Sophia angry a minute ago, you know your mind would have drawn a blank. But seeing her now, eyes narrowed and teeth grit, creates a scramble of emotions that are difficult to pick apart. Surprise, pity, worry, unease...and relief. She needs this. She needs to vent out all these frustrations. She's never had this chance. However, Sophia seems to immediately regret her outburst, as any semblance of anger is quickly replaced with fear as her pupils shrink, her scowl falters, and she turns away from you once more.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I-I didn't mean to...!" She says in a panic. "I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry!"

"No, Sophia..." you say as calmly as you can. With your hand still on her shoulder, you pivot around until you're facing each other. You put your free hand on her other shoulder, and give them a gentle squeeze to help steady herself. "It's okay to be upset. If you need to let it all out, you can. I'm here to listen."

Sophia wipes some tears from her eyes before shaking her head.

"...I-I can't be u-upset," she murmurs. "I shouldn't b-be."

"Why not?" You ask earnestly. "You have every right to be, with how people treated you."

"B-Because... Because I made you f-fight with your p-parents," she states with a sudden hint of assertiveness. "Y-You said it w-wasn't my fault... B-But I'm the reason they're m-mad at you...!"

You give her a serious look.

"No, Sophie. You're thinking about that the wrong way," you explain. "My parents were being unreasonable. You didn't do anything to make them that way, that's just how they are."

She looks down, and her lips tremble despite biting down on them. She really is trying not to emote too hard...or at all.

"And that's what I mean when I say it's all right that you'd be upset. It's not your fault, yet you still had to deal with that. I'd be more concerned if you didn't feel anything about what happened."

Sophia takes in a deep inhale through her nose, shutting her eyes tight for a second as she runs her arm across them.

"...I-I j-just want t-to know..." she speaks in an especially shaky voice. "I-I-I'm s-so...t-tired...of i-it...."

"...What are you tired of?"

Sophia stands there, trembling, tensed up, and shuts her eyes as if she's bracing for something. Her ears fold against her head, and her tail is completely limp. She shakes her head as if she doesn't want to answer, yet after a shaky breath...

"...Why does e-everyone hate me?!" She blurts suddenly, the anger from before returning. "B-Before you, n-nobody was ever nice to m-me...! Th-The grownups yelled at me, th-they hit me f-for things I-I didn't do...! They were a-always a-annoyed by me every time they s-saw me, e-even when I t-tried to stay away from them...! The other k-kids said l-lies about me, a-a-and e-every one believed them...! A-And nobody ever w-wanted to listen to me!"

As she takes a moment to catch her breath, she wipes off the increased amount of tears that had been produced during her vent. In the brief interim, you consider speaking up, but you can tell she isn't done yet.

"Everyone was s-so mean, b-but they never t-told me what I did! D-Did I do s-something...?! A-Am I g-going to turn out like...like h-him...?! They d-didn't tell me, th-they only t-talked behind my back...!" She lets out, with traces of frustration, sadness, and confusion. "I just got u-used to i-it... B-But then y-you h-helped me. Y-You don't h-hate me... A-And it felt really nice... B-But because o-of me... B-B-Because of...."

Sophia trails off into an unintelligible whimper. Any further attempts to speak from her come out as heavy sobs. It's as if she's ashamed to look at you now as she stares directly at the ground, letting her tears roll straight off her snout. You can't watch this any longer without doing anything. You guide her into a gentle embrace, putting one knee down so you're level with her. At first it seems she didn't react at all, but you soon feel her trembling arms slowly make their way around to your back. She...has her claws out, which you can feel through a few pricks against your shirt. Sophia doesn't seem to notice, but you don't mind. It doesn't hurt...too much. You'll bear it for her.

"...I j-just want to kn-know...w-what I d-did... W-Why everyone...."

"Sophie... There are a lot of people out there who are unreasonable, unfair, cruel..." you begin, rubbing her back and speaking in a serious yet comforting voice. "When someone mistreats someone else, there's not always a good reason for it. You've had to deal with so many people like that, but you're just a kid. You haven't done anything to deserve all of that."

"Th-Then w-why...?" She tries to speak, but her hiccups appear to stop her from finishing.

"I've told you this before with my parents... About how despite their reactions, they don't actually know you. But I think that applies to just about everyone else who's been mean to... Who's abused you. Sophie, it sounds to me that they didn't want you to speak unless spoken to, and even then they wouldn't listen to you," you explain. "...They saw you for something you're not, and they never gave you the chance to show them who you really are."

"...I-I don't know...w-what I'm s-supposed to b-be like," she admits with a new tinge of embarrassment in her tone.

"That's the thing. We're still learning who you are. Those people kept you quiet and obedient for so long, and you're still recovering from that," you continue, rubbing her back all the while. "But with each day, I can see the progress you've made. And what I've seen is that you're a very sweet and considerate person, Sophie. You're going to turn out just fine, and I can't wait to see the person you become."

"...Th-Then will people l-like me...?"

"I like you, and once more people get to meet you, I'm certain a lot of others will too. You've just been so unlucky, Sophie. You didn't deserve to be around all those people who treated you so terribly."

"..." Sophia stays quiet after that, continuing to hug you. Whether she's aware of them or not, her claws gradually unsheathe from your back. It may have hurt a little, but it definitely wasn't hard enough to cause bleeding. After all, she wasn't trying to dig them into you, only give you a hug. "...I-I'm sorry, D-Dad...."

"It's okay Sophie. Just remember that no matter what, I will always love you," you say gently. Whatever she's apologizing for—her crying, her yelling, her claws—it doesn't matter. You understand, and you meant what you said. You love your daughter, and you always will. But no matter how much you do, you're only one person. Sophia can't live her life thinking everybody hates her. Somehow, you need to figure out a way to fix this. But the huge problem remains that you can't risk anybody seeing Sophia before she's legally adopted. Somehow, someone would have to get to know her without ever learning about her current situation. How that's possible, you don't know. For now, though, you need to comfort your daughter. Whatever you can provide for her, you will.

For the rest of the day, your head was stuck trying to think up any solutions to what was brought up earlier. You just know that if one person interacted with Sophia and got to know her, they'd like her just as you did. Maybe you're biased, being her father and all, but it's clear that anyone as gentle as Sophia shouldn't have been treated as she was. ...Still is, if you count your parents. How terrible that must've been... It's difficult to think about. You're the first person to show her kindness, so much so that despite her timid ness, she was able to steel herself and call you "Dad" before you decided you wanted to be her father, only for your own parents to continue the trend of disliking her without getting to know her. But now's not the time to boil your blood thinking about your parents, because you've just thought of a way to help Sophia.

After some consideration, you realized that it is very possible for two people to get to know each other without ever actually meeting each other, and not just through the internet either. It's a fairly known practice, actually. And with this strategy, you'll be able to monitor it so that Sophia doesn't give out anything that could reveal her situation with you.

But the question is, who will Sophia "meet"? You'd really prefer that it would be someone you know very well. But it sure as hell won't be your parents, and attempting to come up with anyone else is...admittedly difficult. Man, what happened? It's not like you were a friendless loser growing up, but it seems like all your friendships just slowly faded away for one reason or another. You haven't met very many people since you've moved here because you've wanted to minimize the amount of time Sophia spends home alone. You don't blame her though, you took up that responsibility, and you don't feel bad for sticking to it.

Maybe...someone from work? Your coworkers are definitely the people you interact the most with. Reita comes to mind first and foremost. You've had many amicable chats with her, and you feel you could safely consider her a friend. Greg and Jane...don't feel like good ideas, especially when Greg is your next door neighbor. Yeah, Reita seems to be your best bet. Even though you wish you knew her better if you're going to ask her for something like this, you can't think of anyone better.

You have just about all of your coworkers' numbers, as they do yours for work purposes, but you've never actually called Reita before. This is definitely going to be a little weird to ask her, and it's not even guaranteed she'll accept it, but when you remember Sophia earlier today, you know you have to try.

You make your way to your car for this call. You're not going anywhere, but you just want to ensure that Sophia doesn't walk in on it like last time. The last time you remember her being in the garage was when you first took her home. If she comes in here looking for you, the car will ensure she doesn't overhear anything. Once inside the car, you stare at Reita's number on your phone for a few seconds. You hit Call.

Ring... Ring... Ring....

"Anon? This is...quite a surprise," Reita's voice comes through, evidently a little caught of guard. "How are you doing?"

"Hey, Reita. I'm doing well, thank you. How about you?"

"Same, I suppose...."

"That's good. I'm sorry to bother but... I, uh..." you clear your throat. "I have a weird request, if you don't mind hearing me out."

"A...weird request?" She asks, slightly perplexed. "What would that be?"

"Have you ever...thought about being a pen pal?"

"A pen pal...?" She inquires. "Um... I can't really say I have. Why do you ask?"

"Well, my d—" you pause. "Uh, you remember my niece I talked about? Apparently she's really hooked on the idea. I was just wondering if you'd consider that with her."

"Oh? That is an interesting request..." she remarks, slightly bewildered. "...But—no offense to you—shouldn't this be something her parents set up for her?"

"That's the thing... Her parents are having a...bit if trouble currently. She's been staying with me a lot longer than what was planned," you explain, purposely wanting to keep the details murky.

"Is that the reason why you've had to work from home?" She questions with a slight revelation. "...Er, sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"...Sparing you the details, yes. Turns out I'm really the only person she can stay with. I love her, and I can tell she loves me, but she's had a few issues handling all of this...."

"Oh my...! I didn't realize it was that serious. I'm sorry to hear all that, Anon," her voice rings over the phone sounding like a genuine apology, as if she had a role in your quasi-fake story. "You said you'd like me to be her pen pal?"

"I don't mean to pressure you into a decision," you put in because of her reaction. "It's perfectly fine if you're not up to it. I've looked it up, and there's a few websites that help match pen pals together. I just thought it might help distract her from...what else is going on."

"..." There's a short pause before you hear her voice again. "...May I ask you something?"

"Oh, uh, sure. What is it?"

"Why ask me? I mean, I'm not saying we aren't...friends. But I'm sure there are other people you know better than me who could help."

"Well, there...really wasn't. No one who would want to help, anyway," you admit, a little more bashful than you would have liked to sound. Again, there's another pause before Reita speaks again.

"I'll do it," she says. "And you know, being a pen pal sounds like it could be a lot of fun."

"Really...? Thank you so much," you say earnestly. "But before you accept, you should know that I'm going to have to read both what she sends and receives. Are you all right with that?"

"Of course. I understand."

There's one part of you that's relieved Reita is willing to do this, but another part is still hung up on if this is even a good idea in the first place. As long as you can monitor what Sophia is sending out, you should be able to stop any information that's too revealing of your situation, right? You don't know how Reita would react if she found out what was going on, but as always, the safest scenario is preventing her from finding out entirely. No matter how you go about it, connecting Sophia with another person before you've gained legal custody is risky. But you think about Sophia earlier today, and everything she said. She needs to be able to communicate with someone who isn't you. You had considered being Sophia's pen pal under a pseudonym, but decided you wanted this to be a genuine experience for her. She needs one.

"Well, great! If you're okay with that, then I'll send you my address, and you can send me yours. I'll tell her about it, and when we're ready, you'll be sent the first letter. Again, thank you so much for this."

"It's no problem. Thank you for reaching out to me about it!" She responds.

"Oh, of course. So, expect a letter sometime soon. Or if you have anything you want to ask, or just have second thoughts, you can give me a call."

"Wait, er, Anon. Before you go..." she says, sounding similar to how you did initially in the conversation. "...I've been wanting to ask if you'd maybe want to...meet up somewhere that isn't work."

Huh? Is she...?

"Eheh, I realize that sounds like I'm asking for a date," she continues a little awkwardly. "But I'm just asking if you'd like to...you know...hang out? You seem like a good guy, Anon, but we only see each other at work. I'd really like to...get to know you a little better."

"Oh," you say, slightly taken aback. "Uh, sure, I'd be up for that."

"I mean, I know you don't have much time to yourself with your niece and all. But, I just thought I'd...throw that out there."

"No, that sounds good. To be honest, actually, I've...kind of wanted to get to know you a little better too. I've just been a little busy with everything going on. ...Do you mind if you sent me some times that work for you, and I'll see if I can get them to work for me too?"

"I don't mind at all," she responds, with a tinge more pep than before. "I'll look at my schedule and send you some dates. We can make plans then."

"All right, that sounds good to me. Talk to you later?"

"Yep! Goodbye Anon... And thank you."

"Oh, no problem...? Goobye."

"Bye!"

Beep.

...Huh. You weren't expecting Reita to use that conversation as a way to ask you to hang out. That's not a bad thing. Reita might be the person you've talked with the most since you've moved here, baring Sophia of course. Yet despite that, you can't say you know her too well. Especially since a majority of your work is from home now, seeing her isn't as common as it once was. It...would be nice to get to know her a little better. Evidently she feels the same to you.

Though, you can't lose focus of the important thing: Sophia and Reita are going to be writing letters to each other. This will be Sophia's chance to get to meet someone other than yourself, albeit without actually seeing her. You hope this isn't a bad idea. You really want to purge any thoughts in her head that you're the only person who likes her... Even if, admittedly, that might actually be true at this point in time. But the whole point was that nobody has really gotten to know her before you. Reita's a nice person. You know Sophia will like her too. You just hope that Reita never pieces together that Sophia isn't actually your niece....

***

When you find Sophia, she's huddled up on the living room couch. She sits nearly motionless, and looks blankly downward. While her eyes have dried up since she last cried, her saddened and ashamed expression still remains. It hurts to see her like this. The girl who's become your daughter thinking that everyone she's ever met, baring you, hates her. Given how she was treated in the past, you can see why she had come to that conclusion. It's not a problem you can solve alone, even as her father, so hopefully your plan with Reita will help.

As you approach her side, you notice her head turn the slightest amount in your direction, but only for a brief moment.

"How are you feeling?" You ask in a gentle voice.

"...I don't know," she responds noncommittally, her voice a little coarse. She's probably not feeling too well, if you really had to guess.

You take your place next to her, sitting to her side, but deciding to give her some space as well. You worry as though you might be becoming a little overbearing at this point. However, that gap is soon bridged as Sophia scootches over and lightly leans into you, all without looking at you. Of course, and as usual, you respond by pulling her close with one arm. The two of you sit there for a while, wordless, each lost in your own respective thoughts. You can only guess Sophia is thinking about the people she had known before, wondering why they treated her like they had. Your own thoughts mulled over the plan with Reita, and reviewing how you want to go about it.

"...Sophie," you begin, clearing your throat. Sophia turns her head a bit and lifts it up slightly, but her eyes do the rest of the work. "I've done a little thinking about...what you told me. I really wish I could take you out to meet other people. Kinder people. But I can't do that at the moment."

"...Why?" She utters.

"It's, uh, a little complicated..." you say, unsure if you should tell her she isn't legally recognized as your daughter, and the problems therein. "...But I think I've found a way where you can 'meet' someone, and get to know each other. You'll like her. She's very nice."

Sophia shifts to better focus her attention on you, becoming the tiniest bit more lively. But whether that's curiosity or worry you now see in her eyes isn't clear.

"...Wh-Who is it?"

"Her name is Reita. She's someone I've been working with for a while now," you explain. "Like I said, you can't meet with her in person. Not yet. But you can get to know each other without that."

"...How?"

"Have you ever heard of a pen pal?"

She shakes her head.

"Well... Pen pals are people who communicate by writing letters to each other. So not only would you get to know someone other than me, but we can also use it to help you get some writing practice," you tell her. "How does that sound to you?"

Her eyes drift away as she contemplates it. She sits practically motionless, still leaning against you.

"There's no rush. If you need time to think about it, that's okay," you put in after a few seconds of silence.

"...You said sh-she's nice," Sophia recounts. "I-Is she as nice as you?"

"I would say so. Maybe even more than I am."

Another moment of silence passes as Sophia presumably considers the new information. However, she's quicker to respond this time.

"...Okay."

"You want to try it?"

She nods her head simply, before letting it fall back to your side. You give her a comforting stroke behind the ears.

"Don't worry, Sophie. I'm gonna help you with it every step of the way," you assure her. "And if at any point you change your mind about it, we'll stop."

"...C-Can we start now?"

"Now?" You question. "If you want, then of course. But are you sure you want to start right away?"

"Mm-hm..." she nods. "...I-If she's nice like y-you...."

She trails off, and you wait for her to finish her thought. However, you realize after a prolonged silence that she's not going to, at least not verbally. With that, you begin to stand up. Sophia sits up straight in response, so to prevent falling over once you're not there to lean on.

"I'll get a pencil and paper. We'll start really simple."

"...Okay," she says with the smallest increase of energy.

Once you've got the supplies—a pencil, a few blank sheets of paper, one sheet of the alphabet in both upper and lowercase, and Sophia's first attempt at writing—you set them down on the living room table. You don't imagine Sophia's going to be able to write more than one page today, so the spare sheets are just in case she wants to start over. She watches as you prepare the space, and once you're finished, she scootches across so she's directly in front of the papers. After a brief moment, she shifts forward and takes the pencil in paw.

"...W-What do I write...?" She asks, turning to you.

"Well, this is going to be your first letter to Reita. You should introduce yourself. Why don't you start with your name? Look here," you say before taking the paper of her first writing attempt. You point at the first sentence she wrote. "You've done this before. 'MY NAME IS SOPHIA', see?"

"So I...write that again?"

"Well, maybe put a 'hello' in front of it," you suggest. "Heh, It'd be a little awkward to announce your name without any sort of greeting, don't you think?"

"...I think so," she replies with what little energy she has. "...S-So, I start like this...?"

You watch as Sophia leans forward and puts pencil to paper. At the top left of the sheet she puts three lines together to form an "H". Despite her focused and careful motions, the letter still comes out fairly squiggly and a size too big, but that's pretty much emblematic of a child's handwriting.

"Hh...eh..." Sophia utters under her breath, and after she finishes up the "E", you realize she's sounding out the word. "...Luh...Oh...."

Once she's finished with the word, she turns and looks to you. You review her result...

"HELO" it reads.

"Good start, Sophie! Just one thing: 'Hello' has two 'L's," you inform her.

"...Oh," she responds, looking slightly dejected.

"Hey, don't worry. There really isn't any way to tell from just listening. And it looks like there's enough space put in the other 'L' right there," you say, pointing to a gap that formed from the fluctuated handwriting.

Sophia watches were you point, and moving her pencil between the "E" and the "L", she squeezes in the missing letter. Once in place, it's noticeably lithe compared to the letters around it.

"There you go. Now, it just needs a comma."

"A comma?"

"Yep. You just put a little mark like this..." you explain as you trace a diagonal dash to the lower right of the word. Sophia replicates it with her pencil.

"W-What does that do?"

"A comma is a short pause. It's like a period, but it doesn't end the sentence," you say. "We'll get into punctuation sometime later."

"Oh," she puts simply, before looking back over the paper. "Now I...tell her my name?"

"Yep. You can just write what you've already done here. Oh, but before you start..." you interrupt her as she was moving her pencil back to the sheet. "Maybe you ought to start trying to write in lowercase."

"Lowercase...? I-Is that the...smaller letters?"

"Exactly right," you confirm as you draw her attention to the sheet with every letter listed. "I got this to help you keep track of what looks like what. In general, every letter should be lowercase, except for the first letter of the sentence, and the first letter of a name. Go ahead and try to rewrite what you wrote here."

"O-Okay..." she says before she gets started.

You observe Sophia as she places all her concentration on her writing. She constantly cross-references her old, entirely uppercase sentence with the alphabet sheet in order to translate the letters into lowercase. It would have been vastly more time consuming had you not been there to help nudge her in the right direction whenever she had trouble finding anything. At one point, she made a mistake and wrote a capital letter where she shouldn't have, which gave you the perfect opportunity to show her how an eraser works. She was very appreciate of that in particular, as she was worried she'd have to start over because of the mistake.

"Nice job, Sophie," you praise as she finishes up the sentence. "Now, why don't you tell her something about yourself?"

"Something about me...?" She ponders, taking a moment to come up with anything she'd like to share. "...C-Can I talk about you?"

"Me?" You let out a light, confused chuckle. "Isn't this supposed to be about you?"

"W-Well... I-I wanted to say... I love my dad."

Your heart skips a beat. Just a couple words, and you're completely over the moon. How is it possible that someone can have such an effect on you? It fills you to the brim with pride and joy that you can call Sophia your daughter.

"Aww, Sophie..." you fawn, and can't help but reach over and playfully ruffle her hair. "I love you too."

As you feel her hair bristle around your fingers, you notice her expression lift into a light smile. She still looks fairly tired and out of it, but her smile was a genuine one, unlike the fake ones she was giving you before.

But the question is, should you let her write that to Reita? You told her you were Sophia's uncle, and alluded to some unforeseen issue that lead to Sophia having to stay in your care for an extended and uncertain amount of time. You briefly wonder what presumptions Reita might've made. The one that comes to mind first is your nonexistent brother and sister-in-law having problems in their nonexistent marriage. Maybe that's the story you should build up. Not that you'll ever explicitly tell Reita it, you'd just use it as a reference to keep your lies from contradicting.

On that note, it's probably safer to just prevent Sophia from writing about anything family-related, even something as simple as saying she loves her dad. But... You take another look at her, showing the first signs of recovering from your parents' harsh words, and you know you can't deny her it. The entire reason you came up with this plan was to help Sophia feel better. Maybe it's a little risky to let her write this, but it's vague enough that it can be spun however it needs to be.

"Okay Sophie, you can write that down. But let's keep the focus on you, all right?"

She gives a relatively stronger nod, and thankfully, her smile persists. In fact, you might even say you noticed it growing wider, though if it was, "a snail's pace" would be too quick to be an apt description. But that's okay. Healing can take time.

After a little more than half an hour, Sophia had put the finishing touches on her last sentences. Her progress was slow, careful, and contemplative. You making sure she didn't misspell anything stalled the process even more, and there were a lot of words in which simply sounding them out wouldn't give her the correct idea of their spelling. But at last, it seems the letter is complete.

"HELLO, My name is Sophia. I love my dad. My favorite food is chicken. I like to be held and hugged, and my favorite game is catch. I am a little shy, but I want to make new friends. I am excited to meet you. What do you do for fun?

From,
Sophia"

It's...not the most information dense, but there are good reasons for that. It IS Sophia's second time writing, and you don't want her to write more than she can handle. Guiding her through spelling things such as "favorite" and "excited" were trifles in their own right. That, and it was very limited what she could write about. She obviously wouldn't want to write about her life before you. She did want to write about you, and the things you've done together, but you had her avoid that since you wanted to reveal as little as possible of the family situation to Reita.

This is a good start. Well, good enough. Once Reita sends her own letter, a better conversation can hopefully stem from there.

"It looks just about done," you say. "Ready to send it out?"

"Um..." Sophia takes a second to peer over what she wrote. "...Sh-She's not gonna...m-make fun of me, r-right?"

"Of course not. That wouldn't be like her at all," you assure her. "Trust me, Sophie. Reita's a nice person. She'll love to get this."

Sophia doesn't look the most sure, but you can't really do anything to prove your claim at the moment. She'll see once she gets a letter back from her. But eventually, Sophia returns a weak nod.

"...Okay. I'm ready," she tells you.

You return a warm smile, and give her a soft pat on the head. With one last review over her letter, you take it from the table and bring it to the kitchen counter. On it lies an envelope with Reita's address. Sophia follows as you head over, and watches as you fold the letter, place it in the envelope, seal it, and stamp it.

"All right, Sophie, I'm going to put this in the mailbox now," you tell her. "Just, uh, don't follow me outside."

She gives a small nod of acknowledgment. You give her a gentle few pats on the head before making your way to the front door. A brief trip outside later, and the letter is finally placed into the mailbox. After lifting the flag up, and turn back to the house. Your heart stops for a moment as you notice, although through heavy glare, Sophia watching you through a window. You take a quick look around, luckily not spotting anyone nearby, before you hurry back inside.

"S-Sophie!" You call out as you shut the front door behind you, causing all her attention to snap to you. You realized you might have sounded a little too panicked upon seeing Sophia's own startled reaction. "Uh... Sophie? Remember what I told you about windows?"

Realization flashes over her face, and she quickly takes another step away from the window she had already since moved from.

"S-Sorry! I forgot...!" She says with a noticeable tone of worry.

"Hey, don't worry, it's okay," you tell her in a calming voice. "It's understandable. I told you that a while ago. And it's not...normal that you'd have to need to do something like that."

Your gentle voice seems to help her relax again, but she still appears slightly daunted. 

"...W-Why do I have to s-stay away from windows?" She asks, understandably confused.

You give a tired sigh, knowing you were going to have to skip around the question.

"...Well, it's to prevent misunderstandings," you say. "Some people...don't actually know I have a daughter now. I'm still in the process of...telling everyone."

It's obvious you're doing a bad job of explaining it, as you can tell from Sophia's confused look. But she must trust whatever you're saying, because she simply gives an "okay" and nods.

"But once everyone knows, you won't have to be stuck in this house anymore. I promise."

Her expression doesn't change too much at that.

"...I-It's okay. I'm fine with b-being here. It's always warm, a-and always has enough food, and a bed..." she says.

"Sophie..." you begin, but stop yourself. You were going to tell her that the outside world won't be as bad as her life before you, and that she shouldn't be so eager to be spending her time in the same building for who-knows-how-long. But maybe it's better she thinks that way until the future about her adoption looks more certain. You don't want her to long for the outside world while you have no choice but to keep her indoors.

"Well... I'm glad you're happy here," you say with a forced smile.

You really need to make the adoption official. But, like every time you think about it, it feels as if there's no winning play. The possibility that there's truly nothing you can do terrifies you, but you try hard not to be so pessimistic. Still, it lingers heavily in the back of your mind, like always....

The dates and times Reita had sent you to meet up all had the same issue: you'd need to leave Sophia home alone, and not even when she'd be asleep. You didn't like the thought of leaving her alone when you don't have to, even for as short as an hour. But on the other hand, you felt it was important to meet up with her at least once, as she was going to be communicating with Sophia. It's not that you don't trust Reita, it's just that you're aware of the risk you're taking in allowing this to happen. Getting her general feelings on the subject is probably a good idea.

So you texted Reita back to meet one of those times. There was an urban park within the city, and you agreed to meet her there early in the afternoon. She tipped you off about a lot by the southern entrance with free parking at that time. When the date arrived, you told Sophia you were heading out, but would be back within an hour. After a quick hug, you were off. As you drove away, you attempted to make yourself feel better by reminding yourself that this is far from the first time Sophia's been left home alone. Work days, grocery trips, and the like meant you knew Sophia could handle herself alone.

It had been a while since you'd been downtown for any other reason than work or shopping. The urban park was something you've passed by plenty of times, but you don't remember a time you actually gave it any conscious thought. When you find the nearby lot, you notice it's surprisingly, fairly vacant. But then again, there weren't too many areas of interest around this particular part of town.

Once you finally arrive at the southern entrance of the park, you check the time, finding you had arrived ten minutes early. Reita had told you she'd be sitting on a bench nearby. Sure enough, you spot a lone figure up ahead, face buried in a book. It was a little off putting to see her in the more casual attire of a long, faded green t-shirt, and an unzipped, black windbreaker on top. Not just because this was the first time you've seen her outside of work, but also because her outfit didn't look appropriately protective from the cold weather.

"Hey, Reita," you call out as you get close. Her ears flick up at the sound of your voice, and she lifts her head from her book. Her expression morphs to a light, but warm, smile as she catches sight of you.

"Anon, you made it!" She greets, bookmarking her page and standing up. "I hope you weren't very busy today."

"It's nothing to worry about," you assure her. "How long were you waiting?"

"Oh, I've been here almost an hour. I like to come out here to read whenever I have the time."

"You've already been out here an hour?" You say, a little surprised. "Aren't you cold?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. This weather feels just right for me," she answers, before you notice a realization pop into her head. "Oh dear, maybe I should've picked somewhere indoors. I didn't think about you not having fur!"

"Don't worry, I have a coat. I'll be just fine."

"Are you sure? Well, please let me know if it gets too chilly for you."

You give a nod of acknowledgment before taking a gander at the scenery around the two of you. The first signs of spring were evident through the flowers beginning their bloom. The park manager or whoever must love lavender and yellow flowers, as that made up the majority of anything that wasn't green. Despite the generally pleasant environment, you still haven't spotted anyone except Reita. The only sounds that filled the air was the distant traffic that surrounded it. That, and the occasional bird chirp.

"It's a nice park," you say. "I've driven past it a couple of times, but I've never been inside."

"Isn't it? It always feels nice to get out of my stuffy apartment and spend some time out here. It's my favorite place in the whole city," she tells you, taking a quick look around herself. "Walk with me. There's a beautiful fountain near the center."

"Oh, sure. That sounds nice."

Reita smiles before turning away from where you entered, and guides you deeper into the park. After a few steps, you're walking side-by-side on the hardened dirt path.

"...Maybe I oughta make a habit visiting here," you suggest out loud on the trek to the fountain. "If it's always this relaxing."

"Well, it will get a little busier soon once the weather gets warmer, but it's almost always very calm regardless. Though, sometimes people bring their kids to run about. Hey, maybe you could bring Sophia here sometime."

"Oh? Uh, yeah. Sometime in the future, maybe..." you drift off. "Hey, about Sophia. Have you gotten her letter yet?"

A wide smile creeps up on Reita's face.

"I did. She sounds like such a sweet little kid. Although..." a sudden *snrrk* exhales from her nose. "Is her favorite food really just chicken? I wouldn't have expected that from a little girl."

You can't help but smirk at that too.

"Now that you mention it, I guess it does sound a little funny. But yes, she absolutely loves it. She'll enjoy anything if you add chicken to it. I'm not joking when I say I've seriously considered letting her try ice cream with bits of chicken sprinkled on top."

Reita shivers at the thought, though retains her amused grin.

"I can't say I've heard that one before," she chuckles, before her expression drops. "...I hope she's doing fine. I can't help but wonder why she only mentioned one of her parents in her letter."

"Uh, well... It's—"

"Oh, you don't need to tell me. I know it's none of my business," she quickly cuts in before you can decide how to respond. "I'm sure she's in good hands under your care."

"...Thanks," you say with a weak grin, appreciative you don't need to formulate any lies about her situation. "I mean, I'm trying my best."

She gives a knowing nod at that, but you notice her eyes drift away from you, as if there's something she isn't sure of. Before you can ask, you realize the two of you have come upon the park's fountain. The path at your feet splits into a circle around the stone structure. The fountain looks as if it's made up of three separate bird baths of varying lengths, emitting water from each of their tops, which spill past multiple layers of circular plates and into the main basin that connects the three of them together. Four benches encircle the fountain, standing just behind the hardened dirt path. Reita turns to you.

"Why don't we sit together over here?" She suggests, nodding her head toward the bench closest to you and her.

"Sure," you nod, and the two of you make your way over.

As the two of you take your seats, shoulders nearly brushing, you take a brief look upwards at the moderately cloudy sky. The talk about Sophia reminded you about how hopeless finding a way to adopt her seems.

"Anon?" Reita's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. As you turn to her, you're caught off guard by a look of concern. "I... I promise this'll be the only time I bring it up, but... Are YOU fine with what's been going on?"

"Huh...? What do you mean?"

"I just...want to make sure you're not feeling too stressed out about needing to watch your niece for...whatever the reason. I'm sure it hasn't been the easiest thing."

"Oh. Hey, I really appreciate the thought, but..." you pause, before letting out a light, conceding sigh. There's a part of you that doesn't want to waste your only opportunity to vent some of your frustrations to someone, and against your better judgement, you go with it. "...Well, yeah. You're right, it hasn't been the easiest thing. It feels like I'm the only person who can solve this, but I have no idea where to start."

Reita's concerned expression takes on a more sympathetic look.

"But... Sophie makes it worth it," you add. "I love having her around, despite the circumstances. So you don't need to worry about how I'm doing."

With that, you notice Reita's expression lift a bit. Actually, she gains what looks like a sly smirk. You need to do a double take after having witnessed her previous looks about the subject.

"That's really cute," she puts simply.

"H-Huh?" You say, caught off guard by her sudden change in demeanor.

"Sorry if that...sounded weird. But... You call her 'Sophie'?" She asks, with a clearly endeared tone. "I suppose that nickname would be obvious, but still, I think that's adorable."

"O-Oh, I didn't realize I called her that to you."

"You really do love her a lot, don't you?" She remarks, a light grin indicating she already knows the answer.

"Of course. She is family, after all."

"Well... Family doesn't always get along."

"Yeah... I know."

There's a pause after that exchange, and the two of you appear a little solemn after that exchange. Your thoughts not only go to your parents, but to Sophia's possibly imprisoned father and deadbeat mother as well. However, once you take notice that Reita nearly mirrors your own expression, your curiosity is peaked.

"You all right? It looks like we hit a...touchy subject," you ask her.

"I... Well..." Reita pauses for a second, and then lets out a sigh. "Would you mind if I...talk a bit about my family?"

"You don't need to if you aren't comfortable with it."

"I...kind of want too," she admits a little guiltily. "I haven't really gotten the chance to."

"Well, if you want... Fire away."

Reita gives you a sheepish, but thankful, look before she begins.

"I... Don't get me wrong, I love my parents. I know they loved me, they provided for me after all. But..." another pause. "...My sister was the clear favorite. Sierra was planned. I...wasn't. My parents idealized having only one kid after they got married."

"Reita... That's awful. That's not a good excuse for favoritism...."

"I know..." she responds dejectedly. "...But I can't be ungrateful. They still loved me. They didn't pretend I didn't exist or anything like that. It's just, they were always...more proud of my sister. It was something I always noticed, but I never truly believed it until I actually asked them after I graduated from college."

"You asked them yourself if they had a favorite?"

"Yes, I did. And they, well..." Reita takes a deep breath. "Th-This is going to sound a lot worse than it actually was. My parents are the type who really value honesty, no matter how brutal the truth may be. They didn't attempt to deny who their favorite was, they just...gave their reasons. That's where I learned they had only planned to have one child, and that they weren't expecting me."

"They...admitted it? Just like that?" You say, dumbfounded at the prospect. Her parents really...?!

"A-Again...! That sounds a lot worse than it actually was! Really, they aren't bad people. The gap between my sister and I wasn't too wide. Any way we were treated differently was subconscious on their part...I'm pretty sure. I don't think they realized how they were noticeably much happier, and sadder, about my sister's graduation than they were for mine until I brought it up," she quickly puts in. "I guess they thought that being honest was the right thing to do, and that I deserved to know. And I mean, I would rather know than not, but—and I know this sounds stupid—I wouldn't have felt AS bad if they actually did try to deny it at first. If they tried to convince me it wasn't the case before owning up to it. Instead they just...told me."

You don't know what to say in this situation, her scenario is not one you can say you've thought up before. How could they be so blunt about it?

"They apologized for it, and said they'd try to do better in the future, but at that time I was looking to move out and live on my own. It felt too late. I was upset, and then they got upset back at me, because I was 'acting ungrateful.' We had a big argument, which ended up with me driving away," she recounts. "Ironically enough, my sister let me stay at her place until I could get on my feet. I don't think she ever figured out what the argument was about. I wanted to tell her, but it just felt...awkward. I don't even know if she's aware she's the favorite, but I didn't want to create a rift in our relationship."

Being an only child, it's hard to imagine what something like that is like. You almost bring that up, but mentally chastise yourself for that foolish would-be slip up. Sophia is your "niece", idiot. You can't afford to make that mistake.

"I call my sister regularly, but my parents...not as often. We DO talk, it's just always...brief, and a little uncomfortable," Reita lets out an exhausted sigh, leaning forward slightly and staring at the fountain. "I don't want to feel so weird talking to my parents, but... I don't know. I just don't know what to do next."

Reita continues to sit there like that. Unmoving, and clearly lost in thought. Almost as if she had forgotten you were there.

"...I wish I knew what to say," you put in. "It all sounds like a complicated situation. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Your voice takes Reita out of her trance as she sits up and looks back at you. You're surprised to find a weak smile on her visage.

"Don't worry, Anon. Just being willing to listen to all that has helped me feel much better. Being able to get that off my chest felt... Is it cheesy to say liberating?"

"...Maybe a little," you smirk.

"Jerk," she returns with a playful smirk of her own.

You can't help but chuckle at that exchange, with your big stupid grins, and Reita does the same.

"God, I'm sorry. That whole story really did come out of nowhere," she says after her laughter dies down. "Sorry for being such a downer."

"No, I get it. It can't be healthy to keep frustrations like that to yourself for so long," you respond. "And hey, I spoke with my parents not too long ago, and it was a disaster."

"Oh dear, how bad was it?"

"I have never had an argument that bad with them before. Hell, I don't think I've ever been as angry in my whole life than that moment," you tell her. "They...didn't want me to be taking care of Sophia. They'd rather leave her to...less ideal circumstances."

"What?" Reita just about gasps. "But she's their granddaughter!"

"It's a complicated mess. Maybe I can share the full story someday, but not today," you say. "Sorry. After you opened up to me about your family problems, but I can't do the same...."

"Your business is your business, Anon. I was happy to tell you my story, but I'm not expecting you to do the same."

"Well, I'm glad I could help you out. Am I the first person you've told it to?"

"...Yes," her eyes peer away. "Like I said said before, I wanted to tell my sister, but I couldn't bring myself to. I don't even know if any good would come from it, especially so long after the fact."

"But, why do you trust me with it?"

"You trusted me to be Sophia's pen pal, didn't you?" She brings up. "It was probably for similar reasons. I consider you a good friend, Anon."

"...Same," you return in an appreciative tone, feeling a little unexpectedly flattered. "I always enjoy talking with you."

Reita smiles warmly back at you. Something about it feels...comforting. As if any possible stress you feel just melted away at the sight of her. You're glad you can call Reita a friend, you think to yourself.

That feeling persists throughout your time with her, regardless of if you were conversing, or simply enjoying the scenery together. You'd have liked to stay with her longer, if Sophia being home alone didn't linger in the back of your head.

"We should do this again," you say. "I'm sorry I can't stay too long."

"I'm thankful you took any time out of your schedule for this. I know you're busy with Sophia and all," she replies. "Oh, I almost forgot!"

Reita reaches down into her purse, and unzips an unseen compartment. From it, she pulls out an envelope.

"I brought my letter for Sophia," she tells you. "I thought I might as well give it to you now while I have the opportunity, so you won't have to wait for it in the mail."

You accept it as she hands it to you. You take a brief look at your address, and the written name "Sophia Mous". Your heart skips a beat reading that. Luckily, your jacket has a pocket just big enough for it to fit snuggly in.

"Thank you, Reita. Sophia is going to be thrilled," you say with a smile. "...Just a reminder, anything you write about, I'm going to see too."

"That's not a problem," she assures you. "I've already told you some pretty personal stuff, and it's not as if I'd want to write about stuff like that to her."

"Well either way, thank you for agreeing to do this. This'll really help Sophia out."

"You really don't need to thank me. To be honest...I usually don't have anything much better to do," she admits a little sheepishly. "I can tell this'll be fun, and the thought that I'm helping out your niece is a very nice feeling."

Man... Reita sure is a kind person. Hearing her heartfelt words just now makes you wonder why you hadn't tried to connect with her sooner.

"Let's make a plan for next time," you say. "...Maybe we could make this a regular thing."

"I'd like that," Reita smiles.

"Me too."

"Hey, Sophie! I'm—oh, there you are," you say as you enter from the garage. Sophia must have come over at the sound of the door opening, as she appeared from around the corner mid-sentence. "What were you doing while I was gone?"

"...Drawing," she answers meekly as she as carefully makes her way in front of you. Once there, she simply looks up at you. Her eyes still express that glum hint of tiredness she's worn ever since the argument with your parents. She doesn't ask for it, but you know what she wants. You reach down and gently lift her up into your arms, letting her rest against your chest and shoulder as she sits in the crook of your arm.

"Drawing?" You smile, hoping that an optimistic attitude may rub off on her, at least a little. "What did you draw?"

Sophia's eyes drift down and away from you.

"...Nothing," she states. "I couldn't finish a-anything. Sorry...."

"Sorry? Why would you be sorry?"

"...I know you l-like to see my drawings...."

"Well, you're not wrong there," you concede. "But don't think I'll be upset if you chose not to do something you weren't up to."

Adjusting herself on your arm, Sophia rests the side of her head against your shoulder. With your free hand, you reach around and give her a few gentle pats on the head.

"I've brought something from my time with Reita," you tell her as you carry her upstairs, heading to her room. "I think you'll like it."

"F-From...Reita?" She murmurs with a new sense of attentiveness. "Is it...?"

"Her letter to you?" You finish, earning a nod from Sophia. "It is."

Her eyes widen, finally removing that look of tiredness she's worn for so long, albeit replacing it with a look of uncertainty, and maybe even a little bit of fear. Hopefully, actually reading the letter's contents will resolve all that.

You gently lower her, and sit her atop the bed. Unzipping the pocket on your jacket, you take out the letter, and offer to her. Sophia eyes the thing carefully, as if afraid it could jump out to her at any moment, before slowly reaching forward and taking it from your grasp. She takes a steady hold of it with both hands, staring at the letter, then at you, then back at the letter.

"D-Do I...?" She begins, before unsheathing a claw and lying its point on the face of the envelope.

"Ah—! Not like that...!" You say, hurriedly pushing the envelope down and away from her claw before she can shred through it. "Here, let me show you."

You pinch the top of the envelope, and Sophia lets you lift it from her hands. You simply flip it around and place it back in her grip. Now, with the back facing her, you slide a finger along the underside of the opening flap.

"Try cutting like this instead," you tell her.

Sophia silently nods in response. She takes her claw, and mimics what you showed her. The ensuing ripping noise gives Sophia a start, but an encouraging look from you let's her know she isn't damaging the letter inside. Once her claw has run all the way through, the flap opens up.

"There you go. That's a very clean cut," you remark, seeing as no part of the main envelope had been torn. But your focus soon shifts to the folded paper within as Sophia slides it out. "...How about I read it to you?"

As good as an opportunity this is to get some reading practice in, you feel it's best you read it aloud to her. That way there's less room for Sophia to misunderstand Reita's words.

"...Okay," she says softly, handing over the letter, which was still folded and obscuring the contents. You give her a thankful smile as you take it back from her.

Sophia watches intensely as you unfold the paper, revealing Reita's tidy and organized handwriting, all in a black pen. You hold it out so the both of you can see.

Well, let's see how this turns out...

"Dear Sophia,

It's very nice to meet you! My name is Reita. I work with your unc—" you freeze for a second, and Sophia gives a confused look. "...Hey, Sophie? Do you know what an uncle is?"

"H-Huh...?" She responds, looking as if your interjection had pulled her out of a deep focus, and maybe it had. "...I-I've heard of it."

"But you don't know?" You ask, to which Sophia shakes her head. "Well, for now, you should know that when she says 'uncle', she's referring to me."

"Oh...okay," she nods, just about whispering her response. Her eyes soon turn back to the letter. You look back at the spot you stopped.

"—I work with your uncle! In fact, we sit right next to each other, and we talk a lot. I've learned a little bit about you from our conversations, and you sound like a very sweet kid. I look forward to getting to know you even better!

I was very shy when I was young too, but also like you, that didn't stop me from wanting to make friends. Even though we haven't really met yet, you can consider me a friend if you'd like."

You take a quick moment to examine Sophia. All of her attention is still squarely on the letter, and she stares as if she's looking at something she's not sure is real.

"To answer your question, I spend a lot of time at the park for fun. I love reading a good book there, and strolling around the place. Other than that, I have a variety of plants at home I like to tend to, and I do enjoy a good movie.

I hope you're doing well, and I can't wait to hear back from you! Now I have a question for you! What do you think you want to be when you grow up? Is anything at school helping you figure that out?

Anyways, I wish you and your uncle the best.

Your Pen Pal,
Reita Kohlburry"

With that, you turn to Sophia.

"What did you think?" You ask her, noticing she appears a lot less tense than when you first showed her the envelope.

Sophia, eyes still glued to the letter, takes a moment to respond.

"...She's really nice," she utters, seemingly still deep in thought.

"See? I told you she'd like to do this. She even told me herself earlier today."

"...S-So," she begins after a pause. "...w-will we keep writing to h-her?"

"Yeah, that's what being a pen pal is," you tell her. "You keep writing to her, and she'll keep writing to you."

"...Okay," she puts simply. "...I like that."

You get a good look at Sophia, studying her expression closely. Upon finding the faintest, near unnoticeable smile on her lips, your own smile widens. You can't be sure it'll last, but you hope that this project will help Sophia feel better about herself.

"But...I've never been to s-school. And I don't know...what I want to be," she admits, appearing a little embarrassed. "...Wh-What should I tell her?"

"Well, you can just say you're homeschooled," you suggest. It's basically true anyway. "And it's fine if you don't know what you want to be when you grow up. You probably won't have a good idea until you're much older."

"Oh... Okay," she responds. For a moment, her eyes drift down in thought, seemingly pondering something. But before long, she looks back up at you, shifting closer towards you as you sit together on the bed. "Th-Thank you, Dad."

"Thank me?" You ask. "For setting this up for you?"

"Mm-hm," she nod. "...I'm h-happy I can t-talk...write to Reita. I like her. She's n-nice."

"She is, isn't she? Just remember that she's happy to be doing this with you too," you smile, twisting towards her and giving her the light embrace you could tell she wanted. Her paws find their way to your back as her own arms wrap around you.

Your plan seemed to be working, at least a little bit. Sophia appears to have had her spirits lifted, knowing that there's someone else who doesn't dislike her for no apparent reason. You mentally thank Reita for playing the key role.

Sophia's happy about it, Reita's happy about it, and you're happy about it. Things seem to be looking up, at least at this moment. Once Sophia is finally adopted, you should get them to meet in person. But for all you know, that day is far, far away.

***

After Reita's first letter, Sophia's spirits seemed to have lifted a considerable amount, much to your relief and happiness. Based on her reaction, it was not unsurprising to you that Sophia became even more invested in learning how to write than before. Of course, you were eager to assist her in whatever ways you could. Her budding ability to read had gone very far, but she hadn't gotten much experience honing her writing. Luckily, you managed to find just the thing to help.

"Hey, Sophie," You say as peer around the doorframe to her room. "I've got something for you."

Sophia, sitting on her bed and having been focusing on the paper in her hands, turns to you. You can see she's holding Reita's letter, using it as practice for her reading. With an unnecessary level of carefulness, she gently sets the letter flat on her bedside counter.

"...Another gift?" She questions as she looks back to you with curious eyes.

"That's right," you respond as you bring forth a ring bound, soft cover booklet. Written on the laminated cover, the title "ABC Trace Along" was presented in big, colorful letters. "This is going to help you practice writing."

"Really?" Her eyes light up, focusing on what you'd brought out. It makes you smile seeing how excited she gets over things like this.

"Yep. Here, take a look," you say as you flip open the first few pages, revealing rows upon rows of horizontal lines in groups of three. Solid letters adorn the lines at the top left, which then become dotted letters as the page continues. Towards of the bottom of each page, the letters vanish completely. "The idea is, you go through each page and trace the letters, and at the end, you write them without any help. It should help improve your handwriting."

"Thank you!" She cheers, before quickly mellowing out of it, ears dropping slightly. "...My letters look really b-bad. I need the help."

"Aw, Sophie... Don't be so hard on yourself. You only just started writing, of course it's not going to be perfect right away," you tell her, walking over to her. "Honestly, your handwriting is pretty good for someone so new."

She seems to regain a bit of that lost happiness from your words. Once up to her, you offer her the booklet, which she takes gratefully. You watch for a few seconds as she flips through the pages, scanning through all the letters and lines. You were about to go and grab a pencil, until you saw she already had one you on her bedside counter. It seems she already had plans to get some writing practice in, too. You grin proudly at her initiative.

"Are you excited to write another letter to Reita soon?" You ask with the slightest, knowing smirk.

"Mm-hm," she nods.

"That's good. She absolutely loved your first one."

Sophia perks up even more. With a timid smile, she takes the pencil, and sets the booklet flat on the counter.

"...I should get you a desk," you decide, watching Sophia sitting on the bed and arch herself over the counter. "Why don't we try this in the living room?"

"Oh, okay," she agrees, taking the booklet back and popping up from her bed. Her arms form an X as she grips it to her chest. "...Can we s-start the next letter too?"

"Sounds like you're really in the writing mood!" You remark. "Of course we can, Sophie."

Her smile lifts a little more from that.

"Thanks, Dad."

***

Hello Reita,

Thank you for the letter! It made me very happy! I do not know what I want to be when I grow up, but I will tell you when I do. I am home schooled. Anon is helping me read and write. It is fun! I got a book that helps me write letters and words. Does this look better?

You seem very nice. I will love to be your friend!

From Sophia

***

Hey, Sophia!

I'm so glad my letter made you so happy. You should know that your letters to me are a joy in their own right! And yes, I can certainly see how much your writing has improved, and so quickly too!

It's perfectly fine to not know what you want to be when you're older. It took me until my teenage years before I even started getting an idea what I wanted to do. You've got a lot of time to think about it. At your age, I say you should focus on enjoying each day. Engage with the things that interest you. Make friends at a pace you're comfortable with. Enjoy the freedom that comes with childhood! Oh, but always listen to Uncle Anon, of course!

You are very kind, Sophia. It makes me so happy to hear you say you'd love to be my friend! As your new friend, I wish you the best, and I hope you're having a wonderful day whenever you're reading this! If there's anything you'd like to ask me, feel free! Can't wait to hear back from you!

Your Pen Pal, and Friend,
Reita Kohlburry

***

Hi Reita!

I loved your letter! You say very nice things. You are a very nice friend! I have something to ask. Do you have any siblings? I am an only child. I do not know what it is like.

I drew you a picture! I hope you like it! I drew a flower for every crayon I had. It took a long time. I worked very hard on it.

From Sophia

***

Hey, Sophia!

I want you to know that I absolutely loved your drawing! You're quite the artist. The flowers look so lovely, I might mistake them for the real ones I grow myself, ha ha! And speaking of, since you were so kind to draw me a picture, I thought I'd return the favor with a few photos of my flowers. The orange, puffy looking ones are called marigolds, and the plants with white leaves on top are peace lilies.

I do have a sibling! Her name is Sierra, and she's my older sister. Growing up with a sister has its ups and downs, but Sierra has always been one of my best friends. We used to bicker a lot when we were really young, and sometimes I wondered what it would be like to be an only child, but she's nonetheless become a rock in my life. I call her all the time, and visit when I can.

Again, thank you so much for the drawing! I'll be sure to treasure it. You should consider signing your work, every great artist does it! Don't quote me on that, though.

Your Friend,
Reita

***

A cool breeze blew against your jacket as the two of you sat by the fountain, as per what was becoming routine at this point. Occasionally during your chats, you both would taper off to your own thoughts, letting the subtle sounds of the wind and fountain take over. Your own thoughts weren't always pleasant ones. Worries about how in the world you could find a way to get Sophia adopted often dominated your headspace. But, having Reita sitting by your side, even in these moments of silence, really helped to console those fears for whatever reason. You hope it isn't conceited to wonder if you have a similar effect on her.

"...I should be heading back, now," you say, breaking the silence. The deer woman's gaze shifts from a thoughtful stare into the distance, to you. Her friendly smile weakens slightly at that, but she nods all the same. "...But you know what that means."

"Oh, of course," she responds. Just like that, her expression seems to have been rejuvenated. She even nudged you with her elbow with her next words. "Hand it over already."

"I was getting to it...!" You snicker, pulling out an envelope addressed to her. "Sheesh, I didn't take you for the impatient type, Reita."

"Can you blame me?" She asks, gratefully taking the envelope as you hand it to her. "I can see how hard she tries in her handwriting. If I really am making her day being her pen pal then, well... It's a really good feeling."

You can practically see the warmth radiating off of her. At first you were really worried you were burdening her with this pen pal business, but evidently that isn't the case.

"Reita, I really can't describe in words how much you've helped out. Sophia had been a...bit down. But your letters are probably the biggest reason she's been able to pick herself back up."

"Well, thank you for offering me the opportunity to be that person." She says, looking the definition of sincere, even blushing slightly through the fur on her face.

"Of course. Oh, one more thing," you say, a smirk creeping up on the side of your face. "Careful with the metaphors. Sophie got a little confused, and even a bit concerned, when you said your sister had 'become a rock' in your life."

Reita grows a smirk to match your own, and snickers lightly. Before long, the two of you had waved each other off, and gone your separate ways. Even though mere seconds passed since the ending of that meeting, you find yourself wondering about the next one.

***

It happened at work, and you certainly weren't ready for it. On the ride home, the events played in your head repeatedly like a broken record.

At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You and Reita talked much more often these days. Maybe that's why you hadn't noticed Greg giving you those strange glances at first. When you finally had, after who knows how long, you had just assumed it was because of how friendly you and Reita had become. So after you noticed, and then let a few of them slide, you had been conjuring up responses for a completely different inquiry than what you'd actually get.

Having finished up a conversation with Reita, an amiable chat about her favorite plants she tended to as a hobby, you pretended like you noticed Greg's glance for the first time.

"Oh, uh, hey Greg," you said, having turned to face him. "Is something up?"

"...Anon," His response was delayed, and his face had continued to hold a scrutinizing gaze. But when he finally spoke, those four, seemingly unassuming words shook you to your core.

"Do you live alone?"

A sudden wave of dread had pierced your chest, and fluttered about your body until it was completely consumed in it. You had scrambled for a response. Why did he ask that...?!

Do you say yes? Or do you let your "niece" lie spread to your other coworkers? You desperately needed more time to consider the best response, but you had scarcely more than two seconds, as you realized anything longer would put suspicion on you itself.

"Er... Why do you ask?" You had said, trying not to let your voice shrink away.

You wondered how you looked when you said that. Had you seemed at least half as natural as you attempted to pull off? Could any oddities in your voice be written off as being caught off guard by such a blunt, out-of-nowhere question? ...Or could he sense the underlying fear you were trying to mask.

"...Just wondering."

His response was as unhelpful as it was terrifying. There's no way he was "just wondering". There had to be a reason to ask such an unprompted question. You might have believed him if he hadn't been giving you those glances throughout the day. Those damn glances...looking at you like there was something off about you. Something he needed to figure out. He had to know something...!

At least, you thought. Are you just being overly paranoid...?

"Uh, I..." you cleared your throat. "...I babysit my niece sometimes. Other than that, yeah."

You think back on your answer, over and over again, while driving home. If Greg did ask that because he was suspicious, for whatever reason, that there was a child at your home, you'd hope that your answer would dispel any...abhorrent conclusions. Still, what if he hadn't been thinking that, and you just let another person in on your lie? A lie he may spread to others, and which may get you caught if you can't keep the details straight to everyone who knows? And, of course, you tried to prepare how to weasel yourself out of the upcoming questioning session you expected from this revelation you shared with him...

Except, that didn't happen. He didn't ask anything. He didn't even remark how you'd never spoken of this niece before. He just...continued to stare at you, as if he had been trying to see something behind your head, and couldn't move his own. Suffice to say, it didn't help quell your nerves.

Reita's ears had flicked at the mention of your niece, and she must have noticed what was going on.

"Oh, Greg, I just remembered something," she had said, awkwardly cutting in as if she was still in the process of remembering. His gaze lingered at you a little longer before slinking noncommittally to look at Reita.

"What?"

"I've been meaning to ask, do you think you could introduce me to Amy?"

That had got Greg's attention, and you felt a massive weight lift itself off of you as he removes his full focus from you. He turned to Reita, looking a little caught off guard, as if she had said something the slightest bit unpleasant.

"Huh? Why?" His response almost sounded more like a statement than a question.

Reita would go on to explain that, based on how Greg spoke about his wife in the days they've worked together, she imagined the two of them would get along well, and that they shared similar interests. Greg's attitude towards the suggestion was firm and decided, trying to make excuses on how there was no good time for them to meet then, and in the foreseeable future, and that she should probably just forget it. It was obvious to you that Greg just plain didn't like the suggestion, maybe even more than disliked, but had to maintain some level of professionalism with his coworker. Reita, bless her, kept up that conversation until Greg suddenly decided he needed to use the restroom. When he got back, he had apparently decided that Jane was a much more desirable conversationalist. He avoided Reita, and you by extension.

"Thanks, Reita," you had said once Greg was out of earshot, and letting out a tired exhale, as if your discussion with him was as long-winded as her own. "I owe you one."

"It's no trouble. I know the situation with your niece is rather personal, and..." she gives a short pause, tone lowering in confusion. "...I wasn't sure what to make of the way he was staring at you."

So she had definitely noticed too, then. That wasn't the best thing to hear if you wanted to write the whole thing off on your paranoia.

"Yeah, that was a little strange, huh?" As chilled as you were, you didn't want to appear that way to Reita.

"Anon, I'm sorry, but I've got to ask. Is everything going okay?"

It hadn't worked, it seemed. You wondered if there was a nervous tremble in your eyes, and tried blinking it away.

"As good as it can be," you had responded with, not entirely sure yourself what you meant by that.

Once Reita noticed Greg on the way back from his suspiciously short bathroom break, she turned to you with one last, hushed comment on the topic.

"Well, if you ever need help, just know you can trust me."

You had given her a subtle nod and an appreciative smile, and that was the end of any discussion about your "niece" and living situation for the day. Greg had seemed too distracted with his usual one-sided arguments with Jane to glance at you like he had earlier. Reita, of course, had respected your privacy on the matter.

But even now, driving back home, a ball of dread spun in your chest, feeling ready to explode at any moment. Why did he ask that? Why was he looking at you like that? There's no way he could know about Sophia...right? What even are you supposed to do when you weren't even told where that even came from?

"Just wondering"? Really? No, he had to know something. Otherwise why the looks? Why the stare?

But how much did he know? And how did he gain that info? Should you do something about this? What CAN you do? It feels like you should be doing something, but it also feels like you're wearing a blindfold and standing in the middle of a minefield. What's going to happen to Sophia? To you? How the hell are you going to...?!

...

...You realize you've been sitting in the garage for a while now, still in your car. Your hands threatening to snap the steering wheel to pieces as you gripped it tight. You blink, take a deep inhale through your nose, and let your head fall down limply at the same time you exhale.

What are you doing?

It'll be fine, you tell yourself. You're being unreasonably paranoid. He just asked if you lived alone, that's all... That's...all. The best thing to do is just...continue as you have. There's no way he could know what's going on, so as long as you keep up appearances, his suspicions will blow over with time. ...IF he has any to begin with, you make sure to append.

You give yourself another minute before finally stepping out of the car. Putting a hand on the doorknob to the laundry room, you take another deep breath, before turning it. ...And you nearly jump back at the pointy-eared girl who stood directly on the other side.

"Hi Dad...!" She greets with her usual, timid smile. The one that makes your heart flutter with the paternal instinct to keep her safe and happy. "You took a bit...."

"Ah, Sophie!" You chuckle away your nerves, or at least, you try to. "How long were you waiting there?"

"When I heard the g-garage door," she answers dutifully. "You told me not to go to the garage, so I waited here."

You did tell her that, just as you told her to stay away from windows. Should she be in the garage whenever you get home, there'd be a chance she'd be seen. That rule seems more important than ever, after...

...No, stop. Don't start freaking yourself out again. Not in front of Sophie. Push it aside, and just—

"D-Dad?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you focus just in time to watch her little smile waver, then fall into a concerned expression. Your heart fell as well, watching that smile disappear.

"Are you okay?" She asks, voice worried, yet steady all the same. Though, her follow up seemed to lose some ground. "...You look...h-hurt."

"...Hurt?" You say, a little unprepared for such a statement. ...Do you look hurt? "What do you—oh...!"

You're interrupted as she reaches around and pulls herself against you into a hug. She nuzzles her head against you lightly, before looking up at you, concern splayed over her visage.

"...C-Can I help?"

"Aww, Sophie..." you couldn't stop yourself from grinning even if you tired. You bend down and return her hug. "...Don't worry, I'm fine. It was a little bit of a...tough day at work. But you've already helped me feel a million times better."

She is your pride and joy after all. Precious to you beyond words. Your little fuzzball....

...You really need something to distract you from your fears, but at the same time, you want to spend time with your daughter. As you held the embrace, you raised one arm and put a hand on her head, gently stroking her between the ears, feeling the warm bristles of her fur against the clefts between your fingers. You rummaged through your brain for some ideas, before...

"Hey Sophie, have you ever watched a movie?"

***

Sophia was the one who picked the movie. Of course, having never seen one before in her life (or really, any entertainment outlet that was video-based), she only had the names to go off of making her choice. That, and a comment you made about recognizing one of the titles you came upon during your browsing. You hadn't seen that particular movie since you were really young, but you remembered really enjoying it. Upon hearing that, Sophia immediately requested that one. 

You're quite fuzzy on the details, but you do remember you always watched it with your parents. If they thought it was okay for you then, surely it'll be fine for Sophia now, right? You mean, there definitely wasn't anything extreme or explicit, you're fairly certain. Maybe taking a trip down memory lane would be better at distracting you from... Well, you know. The whole point is that you're trying to put it out of your mind.

So you selected it without much further consideration. Without a TV installed, you had to play it from your laptop. Sophia didn't seem to mind at all as the two of you sat together on the couch, laptop resting on the coffee table. She was enthralled from the moment of the opening credits, perhaps simply at the spectacle that was a motion picture, unlike anything she had seen before, her body leaning forward embodying her complete engagement with the movie.

"...Are they in love?"

"Is that the bad guy?"

"Why did they take her away?"

"Who is the man in the mask?"

Obviously, she had a lot of questions to ask. You laugh to yourself as Sophia exposes her complete absence of proper movie etiquette. You don't mind, of course. A talkative Sophia is never something you want to discourage, especially recently. You do your best to answer her inquiries as efficiently as possible, without spoiling what things you do remember from the movie. She must've tired herself out at a certain point, as her questions decrease in frequency, and she gradually leans back into the couch...and then against you. You put an arm around her, and let her cuddle into your side, letting her search for the most comfortable spot, down to the most minute detail. Looking down at her with an enamored grin, you realize you've probably been paying more attention to her watching the movie than the movie itself.

"Hehe..." Sophia giggles softly as a man spontaneously dies after drinking poison. The goon had falsely assumed he had tricked the hero into drinking it, only to completely freeze in the middle of his boastful cackle, and he fell, almost cartoonishly, to his side. "Why did he fall asleep like that?"

"Oh, he, uh... He must've been awake for too long." You throw out hastily.

You had completely forgotten about that character's death, but luckily for you, quite a few things seemed to go over Sophia's head in the film. Not that you blame her. This wasn't a movie aimed specifically for younger kids. You could see why the villain's motives, and how his goals work within the politics of the setting, might go over her head. Still, she remained engaged enough that when you remembered a scene you thought might scare her, and fast forwarded through it, she'd ask with piqued curiosity why you did that. And again, when you remembered a literal torture scene at the latter half of the movie. How did you forget that...? Regardless, the rest of the movie went smoothly. Sophia had long since found the right spot resting on you, rarely needing to adjust herself to get more comfortable. She was one step away from essentially curling up into a ball on you as she sunk into the crook of your arm.

As the final shot displayed the two main leads, and their two recently acquired allies, riding away on horseback, triumphant music began playing as the scene subsequently faded to black. Sophia's eyes remained glued to the screen, and it wasn't until the director's credit flashes onscreen that she lifts herself from her resting position on you, and gives a confused glance.

"What's happening now?" She whispers to you, turning back to the screen as more names continue to be presented.

"It's the credits," you answer. "You know, the movie's over."

"What?" She returns a dismayed look. "B-But the bad guy is gone! Isn't it going to show everyone being happy now?"

"Hm? Eastly just rescued the princess from the evil prince. And all of them got to gallop away into the sunset, didn't they?" You offer with an amused smile.

"Well, yeah, but... Um..." she struggles a bit to articulate her thoughts. "...I wanna see them after, too. They all got back together again, and there's no more bad guys, but it ends here?"

Once more, she brings her attention back to the computer screen. The credits have gotten to the point were they scroll upwards, rather than flash the film's most important names.

"I'm sorry Sophie, but I'm afraid that is where it stops."

"Aww..." she pouts softly.

You can't help but emphasize a little with her. Her reaction reminded you that you had had similar thoughts about the movie's ending when you watched it for the first time. At least, you think you did. It has been a very long time after all.

"Well, it sounds like you must've really enjoyed it," you remark, reaching over and ruffling her head hair.

"Mm-hm. I just...wish I could see what happens next," she puts out a little crestfallen, and taking solace in your gesture as she leans towards you to make it easier.

"I get that. At the very least, you can't say it wasn't a happy ending."

"Yeah..." she nods, eyes drifting away to nowhere in particular, seemingly focusing on her own thoughts. "...I thought they were gonna dance."

"Dance?" You question, unsure what would prompt such a specific thought.

"Whenever I...heard people talk about princess movies, th-they always really liked the dancing parts," she explains.

"Ah, I see. Well, this isn't really one of those traditional 'princess' movies," you point out. Perhaps one of those would've been more appropriate for someone her age... "Maybe you can watch one of those next time."

She gives another nod, though you can tell she's a little lost in thought. Maybe because the movie's concluded, maybe because the ending was too abrupt for her, or maybe there's a bit of both. You give a bit of consideration to the thoughts she shared with you, and you hatch a little idea.

The credits sequence is still playing, and is accompanied by a moderately paced and cheery rendition of the movie's main theme. Reaching over to the laptop, you tap the key to increase the volume a few notches. Sophia's brought out of her thoughts by your action, and gives a curious look.

"But until then..." you begin, starting to rise from your seat. Once up, you perform the briefest of stretches after sitting down for as long as you had, before turning back and offering your hand to Sophia. "...How about a dance right now?"

She had already been reaching over to take your hand before you finished your sentence, but freezes at hearing your suggestion, staring at you with an expression that hinted at both surprise and worry. Not exactly what you had hoped for...

"R-Really?" She utters, her initial surprise almost not letting that word escape her mouth. "...I-I don't know how."

"You don't need to. Let me show you," you say with a warm smile, which seems to ease her nerves as she turns her attention back to your hand, and grabs hold.

Her hand in yours, you gently lift her out her seat, like how a servant might escort a princess, and lead her past the couch. The credits' song continues to play. You extend your other hand to her, which she takes as well, and you rear your torso slightly back, nearly arching your body around hers to give her more space.

"Take a stand on my shoes," you instruct.

"H-Huh? Won't that...hurt?"

"Heh," you smile at her consideration. "As long as you don't stomp, I don't think so."

...And keep her claws sheathed, but you doubt that'll be a problem.

Sophia gives a little pause, before nodding. Then slowly, thoughtfully, and one-at-a-time, she lifts a leg no higher than it needs to go, and places a foot on yours, as if literally walking on eggshells. You'd already known how heavy she'd be because of the many times you've lifted her into you arms in the past, though she had gotten gradually heavier since she finally had been getting an actually substantial diet ever since you'd taken her into your care.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she stared up at you, evidently unsure what was supposed to be happening as she stood on the tops of your shoes.

"All right, now steady yourself, and..." you say before, keeping your right leg at its full extension, sweeping your right foot in a gentle, circular motion. Away to the side, forward, then arcing back around to its original position. Sophia shook for an instant as her sense of balance must have given her that sharp pang of fear one gets when they're about to fall over, accompanied by a soft gasp. Regardless, she keeps her foot planted on yours, guiding her to perform the same movements as you, just from the inverse direction.

"O-Oh!" She lets out, and you can see the lightbulb form over her head. "Is this... Are we dancing?"

"That's right." Close enough, at least.

You repeat the same movement with your left leg. It's not very exciting, and it really walks the line of what can truly be considered "dance", but as you look down at Sophia, the rising smile on her face fills you with warmth. You'd become the best "dancer" in the world for that smile.

"Hehe...!" She titters, looking right up at you with her ears perking up.

"Having fun?" You chuckle. "What say I kick it up a notch?"

"Okay!" She responds gladly with a nod. Her tail, already wagging before, picks up a bit of speed with her answer.

"All right, hold on tight." You tell her, subsequently feeling her grip in your hands tighten.

A little faster, and a little farther, you push a leg forward, as if to kick an invisible man's ankles. Sophia's foot, riding your own, swings back along with it, before you repeat with the other leg. She gives a steadying "wooh" as you essentially puppeteer her limbs with your own. The exception is her arms and hands, in which the opposite is true. You let her push and pull your arms around however she feels is necessary to help balance herself, and move them accordingly to assist her efforts. In a way, you controlled bottom, and she controlled the top of this conjoined jig.

Even as you gradually increased the speed and scale of your legs, Sophia got more and more into the swing of things...heh, literally...as she began moving her arms around less as an attempt to balance herself (not that she really needed to, you'd take control if you sensed she'd fall), and more so to jovially swing herself. Mostly, she'd sway herself in tandem with your movements, similarly to how a kid used a swing set.

She giggled and laughed nearly the entire time, and even when she wasn't, she held one of her adorable sharp-toothed grins. The first one in a while, you realized, after the incident with your parents. You can't help but smile yourself, though yours was much more reserved and relieved. She's emotionally recovering, and that helps put a lot off your mind.

Still, there's always that other worry. That worry that's been with you ever since you drove her home. It had faded with time, only for it to be brought back with all the force of a freight train. A worry amplified a million times over, now that you've gotten used to calling this little fuzzball your daughter.

...

"...D-Dad?"

You blink. You hadn't noticed your waning movements, nor Sophia's laughing cease.

"You're...making that face again," she says softly, staring up at you with a slight tilt in her head, and uncertainty in her gaze.

"...Oh?"

You shouldn't be thinking about stuff like this around Sophia. You can tell she wants to help you feel better, and that would most certainly work for any other problem than this one, because here, she's only showing you exactly what you fear losing.

You force a small smile, looking down at your daughter.

"Sorry Sophie. Didn't realize I was slowing down. Here."

Before she can respond in any way, you let go of her hands, only to reach down and lift her up to your level, then higher. You hold her above the waist, sticking her up high enough she could brush her fingertips on the ceiling if she raised her hands. She gasps at the maneuver, but laughs her surprise away as you spin the two of you around three times, before placing her back on your shoes. You give a more sincere smile upon hearing her laugh.

...Still, her joyous expression falls again when she looks back up at you.

"Dad...? Are you okay?"

"I'm smiling, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but..." she pauses for a moment. "...you still look a little sad."

...

...You do, huh?

"It's okay, Sophie. Don't worry about it. Just..." you pause too, just as she had. "...do you want to keep dancing?"

"Do you?"

"...Yes." You answer earnestly.

"Then me too!" She responds with a surprising level of confidence, and she flashes you a genuine, reassuring smile.

"Thanks, Sophie," and, before you restart the dance. "...You know that I love you more than anything, right?"

Upon hearing your words, you noticed her eyes glisten so brightly, they'd have lightened up the room even if it were pitch black. Though, you couldn't see them for very long, as she pulls herself into you, quite forcefully you might add, and presses the side of her head against your stomach as she reaches around to embrace you.

"...I love you more than anything, too," she utters in a way you can't quite describe. A voice and tone somehow both weak and strong.

You're glad she's not looking up at you, so you can wipe the one tear you allowed yourself to shed as your eyes begin to water. You don't want her to see any signs of your worry, so with all your available willpower, and trying to put all those terrible worries out of your mind, you block any further tears.

Just...focus on dancing with your daughter. This is a happy moment.

And so you do. Sophia leans back, and you take her hands again, and the two of you continue to dance, even after the music from the credits long since ceased. You block out any worries, and force yourself to cheer up. Because right now, you just want to dance with your daughter.

...

...Please, don't take your daughter away.

***

"Do you live alone?"

"Do you live alone?"

"Do. You. Live. Alone."

...

No, you do not live alone.

You have a yet-to-be-adopted daughter who's been with you for months. A young wolf anthro who, despite her history of abuse, had come to trust you enough that she called you "dad" before you called her your daughter. A girl who has become your pride and joy, even if you never thought you'd make for a decent parent. A girl you would do anything to keep safe and happy. A girl who has become the most important person in your life.

So no. You don't live alone.

You'd hope that, at the soonest, the next time you'd live "alone" would be once Sophia grows old enough to leave the nest. ...Wow, that thought makes you feel...preemptively depressed. But whatever weight that feeling has is lost with the more immediate threat at hand. Something that may take Sophia away from you much sooner than that.

If someone knew about Sophia... What would they do? It's Greg specifically who's given you this scare. What would he do? That unfortunate part is you don't really know the guy too well, or more importantly, he doesn't know you. He doesn't know that you aren't...that kind of guy. So if he thinks you might have a kid in your house, you fear he can only make the worst assumptions. So what can you do that would throw him off your trail...?

Should you get all chummy with him? Turn him from co-worker to good friend? As if you have nothing to hide?

...No. It's too late for that. Plus, you don't know how confident you are to pull that off without it being extremely suspicious.

Maybe you could invite his family over for dinner, and have Sophia hide away during it all? Yeah...! If you were trying to hide something, why would you come to them and insist they come over to your place?

...Thinking more on it, no. That's way too risky. You'd be sweating bullets through the whole meal, and you don't want to scare Sophia.

Maybe...? No. How about...? No, that doesn't make sense. If...? No, that's a stupid idea.

Damn it... What should you do? You need to have some sort of plan, don't you? But what if attempting anything is the thing that gets you caught, and you were being so paranoid for no reason? But it wouldn't be for "no reason" because why would Greg ask what he did and give you those prying stares? You have a right to at least be worried. Your own daughter is on the line here. No doubt they'd take her away from you. What if they put her back to a place where she'll be abused for no reason? She's changed so much under your love and care—you know how appreciative she's been with every gesture of kindness you've shown her—so to be put back into an abusive environment? What would that do to her? You used to be so scared about what might happen to you, but now the scariest part about that would be the complete inability to save your daughter from such a—

"Dad...?" A soft voice emits from the threshold of your room.

Sitting on your bed, you snappily fix the slouching posture you hadn't realized you had slumped into, move the hand you hadn't realized was pressed around your face like a mask, and you look up to the source of the voice. Sophia stands there, hugging her stuffed rabbit to her chest. You realize she's wearing her pajamas.

"H-Hey, Sophie!" You say with some forced enthusiasm. "Are you ready for bed already?"

She gives an unsure nod.

"I was going to ask if you were gonna tuck me in," she explains. "I didn't know if...you were coming."

"Oh? Of course I'll tuck you in. I do it every night, don't I?" You say. "It doesn't matter if you want to go to bed early, just give me the word and I'll be there."

Before you can sit up from bed, you notice the strange stare Sophia's giving you. It's as if something you said put her off a little, like she's worried she must've misunderstood you. You almost mirror her expression, when you realize there's a lack of sunlight trying to seep through the curtains that you've kept shut ever since you took Sophia home. You begin to realize what was wrong as you check the time.

It's 9:12. Twelve minutes past her usual bedtime.

How long have you been here, in your room, stressing out about what Greg said...? How did you lose track of time so utterly?

"Ah, I'm so sorry, Sophie," you apologize as you shake the thoughts from your head and finally sit up from bed. Though the cracks of your back seemed to want to remind you of your inactivity. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting so long."

"It's okay..." she murmurs, though her stare doesn't seem to change much.

"Did you already brush your teeth?"

"Mm-hm."

"Good, good."

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you know nows the time to get up and lead her to her room. But...you find that you can't stand up. Your body just doesn't move. You don't want to move. You just want... You just want to...

...You don't know.

An old, familiar silence hangs between the two of you. It's reminiscent of your interactions with her not long after your first took her home. The two of you just...kind of look at each other, as if waiting on the other to continue the conversation. You find yourself looking at her small form and wondering what she'll look like in a year, or three, or ten. You wonder how tall your little girl is going to grow. No matter the answer, she'll always remain just that: your little girl.

Your train of thought breaks upon watching Sophia finally shift from a statuesque stance, to taking a few careful trudges over towards you. She plants her feet once she gets right up to you, and lifts her head up. Her glossy eyes peer into you, wearing a look of what you can best describe as concerned confusion. Her ears droop slightly, and you could've sworn one did so more than the other. You feel like you should say something, but you still can't find the strength to break out of your frozen spell.

That is, until Sophia removes one of her arms from clutching her rabbit, and gently extends a hand to you in offering. You don't even know if you put any conscious effort into it, but before you know it, your own hand has met her halfway, and you're holding the precious paw in your grip.

"...Are we going somewhere?" You ask with a weak laugh, partly in jest.

"...No," she answers. "I-I just want...to help you. You looked...sad, and hurt and...a-and now scared."

"..."

"Whenever I felt like that, you always made me feel better," then, with the smallest tinge of gusto... "I want to help you now...! D-Did you have a bad dream? I'll stay with you...! ...I-If you want...!"

You feel her paw grip tighter against your hand, and she gives you an almost stoically sturdy stare that tells you her word is her promise. It melts your heart, understanding this timid little wolf loves you enough to offer such a thing.

"Sophie..." you begin, growing a modest but warm smile. "...I'm so lucky I get to be the father of the sweetest girl in the world."

Ah geez. You know that was corny, but you really don't care. Guess that's just the kind of parent you're turning out to be. You meant it, and you can tell Sophia knows it, because you can see a slight blush through her fur.

"I-In the whole world...?! I don't think I-I'm...the sweetest in the whole world..." she responds with a gradient of surprise to meek disbelief.

"To me, you are," you tell her, giving her paw a squeeze. "Trust me, Sophie. You've given me a lot of reasons to think that."

"O-Oh. ...Thank you," she mumbles, unsure how to respond to what must be an unbelievably massive compliment in her mind. In fact, it seems to have completely stunned her in place, but she soon manages to bounce back upon remembering what she did to prompt you to say such a thing. "...B-But I mean it! If it helps you feel better, I-I'll stay with you...!"

You really are a lucky father, aren't you? What did you do to deserve this?

"Of course that'd make me feel better. Thank you so much, Sophie," you say without really thinking too much on it. "Here, I'll tuck you in."

As you slide off the bed, you begin to lightly pull your hand from Sophia's own so to turn back around and prepare her spot. Before your fingers can slip away, you feel Sophia's grip tighten, locking them in her paw. When you look back at her, you notice her stare has intensified.

"S-So, there was something...?" She asks, uncertain, but firm, like her grip on your hand.

"Eh? What do you mean?" You respond, feeling the slightest bit stupefied by her action and demeanor.

"W-What was bothering you." Even if she's not usually the most outwardly confident in her speech, her inflection made it clear that was an answer, and not a question. "Why you seem so..."

She can't quite finish that thought, but you get the idea. It warms your heart seeing just how driven this girl has become as a result of her concern for you, yet it also leaves a bad sort of fluttering in your chest as it makes the negative reality of your situation even more present. She's well aware there's something wrong, and it doesn't seem like she's very willing to just let it go. The fact that it's all for your sake...

"...It's just complicated adult stuff. I'm sorry if I worried you," you barely explain, sounding a lot more tired and defeated than you realized.

"Oh," she puts simply. Then... "Could you tell me anyway? Even if I don't...u-understand? Maybe you'll...feel better?"

Her eyes are earnest, and her grip doesn't falter. It should make you so happy how hard she's trying to help, and a part of you certainly is. But the other is desperately wishing she'd just drop it. It's just not a good idea to tell her what's going on.

"Sophie..." you say absentmindedly, as if you were supposed to say something after.

"O-Oh...!" She suddenly peeped, eyes widening in some sort of realization, and her grip finally loosening. "I-If you don't want to t-talk about it... I shouldn't have kept... I-I'm sorry!"

There's the smallest, irrational panic in feeling her paw begin to slip away, and you instinctively increase the grip of your own hand to make up the difference.

"No, Sophie, it's all right...! You don't need to apologize," you tell her, relieved to witness her expression gradually shed some of its worry. "Really, I can't tell you how much it means to me to see how much you care. I don't want you to feel like you've done anything wrong with that."

"Oh. Sorr—" she stops, likely realizing the redundancy of another apology. "...I just...r-remembered how you never...forced me to talk about...s-stuff I didn't want to."

"Well, it's not that I don't want to talk about it, it's just...not a good idea right now. I'm sorry, Sophe."

...Did you just call her "Sophe"? That wasn't even something you did consciously. God, you're just so tired...

"...Okay," Sophia gives a simple, accepting nod. "I'll stay with you."

You smile, despite everything. You just can't help it, seeing her resolute demeanor.

"Thank you, Sophie. I'll prepare your spot, then."

It's then that you feel comfortable enough to let go of her hand, because you can see from her determination that she isn't going anywhere anytime soon.

***

It's difficult to sleep.

Even with your daughter cuddled into the crook of your arm, sleeping soundly, you can't quite follow her into slumber. You thought you were tired before. Not tired enough, it seems.

The darkness and silence don't help to give you much else to focus on. The only thing you're really able to perceive is Sophia, who lies at the core of the issue that's been haunting you.

It's not her fault in any way, of course. But would she feel that way if you got caught? You keep trying to tell her not to worry, and that nothing's wrong that's worth dwelling over. That's what you should be doing, right? Telling her the truth would only scare her, and she wouldn't be able to do anything about it. But if the bomb were to go off...

Are you just setting her up for a great fall...?

***

What would happen, you wonder? What exactly should you be expecting? And how would you prepare for it?

It's a little hard to focus with Sophia sticking like glue everywhere you go around the house today. It seems that her offer to "stay with you" extended far past yesterday night. Is she supposed to be a wolf, or a duckling, you wonder. You don't really mind, of course. Having your daughter resting against you on the couch as you worked on your laptop, sitting by you as you ate together, or doing little things to help as you cleaned around the house was never something you'd take for granted. It just made trying to think about the very possible bad things that loomed over you harder to think about. You try regardless.

If someone were to come knocking at your door, and they had the authority to search your house... What would you do? It's not like you could take Sophia and run, that'd make the situation look absolutely terrible for you. You suppose...you'd just have to be as compliant as possible. Tell them everything. You're not a creep, and Sophia would corroborate. You'd let them search your entire house, and even your phone and laptop, if it meant they better understood you aren't, and have never been, any threat to her. There's nothing you have to hide when it comes to how you interacted with her. Ideally, you'd earn their sympathy, but even then, you doubt they'd let you off scot-free, much less allow you to keep Sophia as your daughter.

You give her another glance, as she's obviously still nearby. It'd kill you to lose her, as it would any caring parent. You're glad she doesn't notice your worried expression as she reads over one of the letters she treasures so much. Who knows how many times she's read over that one.

...And then you realized something you hadn't thought about. Something that made your heart drop.

How the hell did you not think of this until now?

You slyly retrieve your phone from your pocket, and go through your contacts. Once you find Reita's, you send her a few texts...

"What's the soonest you can meet up with me?"
"There's something very important I need to tell you."
"In person."

***

As you wait on the park bench, you can't help but frequently search about the place for any signs of other people. Although it wasn't late enough to be too dark, it was still well past the time most would want to hang around. Still, the idea anyone might still be around made you terribly nervous. What you needed to say was for Reita's ears alone.

You can't believe you'd made such a terrible oversight. You had only been thinking about how to help Sophia, but you hadn't thought about how it might get the other person involved. Reita deserved to know what you may have gotten her into.

You took a young girl into your home with no authority or qualifications. Even if you had the best of intentions, that does not guarantee that if word got out, you'd get in terrible trouble, and your reputation ruined. For the longest time you worried about that, but it began to dull once you started worrying more about what could happen to Sophia than yourself.

But now, you realized you've attached someone else's name to your problem.

If your house were to be searched, or if Sophia were to be questioned... Reita's involvement likely would become known. Of course, she never had the full picture. But to have her name attached to a situation that, without any context appeared extremely severe... She at least deserved to know.

"Hey, Anon," a familiar voice greets you as the deer woman takes her place on the spot next to you. "Is something wrong?"

Her concerned tone makes you feel guilty your texts might have worried her. But what made you feel more guilty was thinking why you had to do so in the first place.

"Reita, hey..." you start, trying to collect your thoughts. "Uh...well... I...don't know if it's a good idea for you to stay Sophia's pen pal."

You wince a bit at her silent gasp. You knew she wasn't going to like hearing that.

"Y-You think? But why?" She asks, clearly taken aback. Maybe you should've prefaced that with something....

"None of it's your fault. It's just... The situation I have with Sophia is extremely...complicated. And I'm worried your involvement could cause trouble for you."

...Why are you being so vague? You called her over so you could tell her exactly what she deserves to know. Not so you can beat around the bush like you always do.

But, thinking more on it... How much do you tell her?

"Are you... Are you really sure, Anon?" She says, evidently downcast from what you've said. "I...try not to pry. I never wanted you to tell me more than you were comfortable with. But..."

Reita pauses for a moment, and you begin to feel really shitty.

"...Is there really nothing more you can tell me? About why this is a bad idea? Why you think it would trouble me?"

Damn it... That's exactly what you were planning to do. But you just...can't quite find the voice to tell her. You've held onto this secret for so long....

"...I'm sorry, Reita," you apologize, defeatedly turning your head. "It's just... It's complicated."

You hate yourself for doing this right now. It's not fair to her, and you know it.

For a few moments, Reita doesn't respond. After a bit, she lets out a tired sigh.

"Anon... Do you at least have somebody you can talk to about that?" She asks, the concern in her voice dominating her tone once more. "It's obvious how much you're stressing over...whatever it is with Sophia. Do you at least know someone you would be comfortable turning to?"

You'd give it some thought, if you hadn't already done so time after time again. You thought your parents might have possibly been a help. As terribly wrong as you were, they seemed to be the only safe option. Next in line, you supposed would be Reita herself. After that...

...

......

..................

Fuck. Just...do what you came here to do. Don't be a coward.

"...Okay. I'm sorry. You deserve to know. I'll tell you."

"Wait, Anon. I'm not trying to force you—!"

"No, Reita, this does include you now. And I've been selfish to have kept that to myself. Plus..." you pause, noticing your heartbeat beginning to increase at the mere idea of spilling your secret. "...You're really the only person I can trust right now."

Reita opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself. Instead, she gives you a look that tells you she's unsure, but ready to listen.

"I'd...uh...really ask you keep this a secret."

"...I promise, Anon."

You give an acknowledging nod, and your heartbeat increases even further. Once more, you take a very careful scan around the park. It seems completely deserted, save for you two, giving you no excuse to back off.

All right... Here goes.

"Sophia..." you start, heart beating faster and having half a mind screeching at you to stop while you still can and think this over more, as if you hadn't already spent enough time stressing over this. "...isn't my niece. She's my daughter."

Hearing those words come out your mouth in front of someone else, and your second thoughts on the situation start to become your only thoughts. "Bad idea" rings through your mind like an alarm. It was different than with your parents. Awful in a different way, but a nonetheless more manageable way.

The seconds you spend awaiting her reaction, any sort of reaction, felt multiplied many times over.

"So that's why you didn't want to..." She began, her previously widening eyes giving way to a more concerned look. "...Does your brother know?"

"No...! No, it isn't like that!" You're quick to correct. You're not quite sure if you're past the point of no return, but after this, you certainly will be. "I...don't have a brother. Or a sister-in-law."

"..." Reita takes the briefest second to register that information. "So, the mother...?"

You pause and clear your throat. There's a pit in your stomach, and it feels the only way to make it go away is to either stop this conversation and excuse yourself...or keep going.

"I wouldn't know. For...lack of a better term, I...adopted her."

"For lack of a better...?" She trails off, but you can tell her mind is picking up the pieces.

You're locked in. Now you have no option but to go through with this.

"I should start from the beginning. Would you hear me out?"

Reita rests the side of her hand by her mouth, partially masking her expression. It doesn't make you feel better, nor relax your heart beating a thousand times a minute. Before long, she nods.

"All right, well, it began on my first day heading home from work..."

As you recount the events that lead up to you taking in Sophia—being confronted by Larry posing as her father, the terrible worries you couldn't shake, searching for her around the city—Reita stays unnervingly silent, giving you a calm and focused look. For better or worse, she's making sure to absorb all the information you're giving her. You'd at least hope she'd be asking a few questions throughout the duration of the tale so you could clear up any misunderstandings she might have had, but she never does.

You only start seeing change, any change, in her expression when you begin telling her how you and Sophia started becoming more comfortable around each other, teaching her how to read, and being there for her after that first terrible nightmare. Her mouth is still obscured, but her eyes appear to soften from such a focused gaze.

"—And I thought she was sick by the way she was acting, but..." you smile a little at the memory. "...She was just really nervous about how I'd react when she called me 'Dad' for the first time."

"She called you 'Dad'?" Reita asks, surprising you after her long silence. "Even when she knew you were trying to find a family for her?"

"She did. She was so scared I'd react badly to that, and for a second it seemed like she thought I had, because hearing that from her... It threw me for...a bit of a loop," you recall. "I hadn't even considered being her parent, much less expected her to ask that in such a way. I just...never thought I'd make a good fatherly type."

You stop for a moment, reminiscing on that memory. You realize that at this point, your heart rate seems to have slowed considerably since you began telling the story. Maybe it was recalling such a monumentally happy point in your life, maybe it's because you realized that, having already told this much, it doesn't make any sense to fret more than you have been. But whatever the case, getting all of this off your chest is starting to feel...nice.

"But once I got over the shock, and Sophie put the doubts I had about not being the best option for her—or even a good option for her—I think I can say that...it was probably the happiest moment of my life."

At that, Reita gives a gentle nod. You can't be sure why, but you hope it was a good sign.

You continue on, telling Reita about Sophia's "birthday," fruitless attempts in trying to figure out how to officially adopt her, and of course...your parents.

"So, you remember the first time we met up in the park? We talked about our parents, and I told you I had the worst fight I've ever had with then? I was desperate trying to figure out how to adopt Sophie, so I tried calling them to see if they could help. I didn't tell them much, only that I was thinking about adopting... But then they overheard Sophie on the phone, and thought I had already gone through with it. They drove all the way over to my house even though I told them not to."

Replaying those events in your head, and you're already starting to feel that anger well up inside you again. Your dad still hasn't used his phone call, and at this point, you're not sure he will. He probably thinks you'll concede before he does, but what he probably doesn't even consider is that the way they treated Sophia makes it really easy not to miss them.

"I knew I'd risk them getting suspicious if I didn't let them inside after such a long trip. I put Sophie to bed, and let them in to discuss what needed to be discussed. They thought that she was adopted already, and I let them think that. I told them I loved her like my own, and tried my hardest to have them consider her part of the family too. But, they already had some pretty big qualms about 'not real' family. And when they learned she was an anthro..."

It was difficult relaying the arguments and inexcusably terrible things your parents said about the situation, because you now know that Sophia was ease dropping on it. The poor girl... That would be something you likely would never forgive them for, especially when they're so adamant on not apologizing.

But you kept going. You told her how they reacted to her "birthday" video, the arguments you had...and Sophia's reaction to it all. It gets another reaction out of Reita, even if still subtle. From the looks of it, you weren't the only person having a hard time listening that memory. It continued to hurt as you recalled Sophia's mood the following day.

"...And then she finally let it out. It was the first time I had seen her show even the slightest bit of anger. She was so frustrated about how everyone she met seemed to hate her without any explanation. I gave her a hug and let her cry on me... Did my best to console her... Told her nothing was her fault, and that she lived a very unfair life with people she did nothing to deserve to have been stuck with," you tell her. "...But I knew I wouldn't be able to prove my point to her without someone, anyone else, to get to know her and show her kindness. But obviously, I wasn't in the easiest position to arrange something like that. Eventually I came up with the idea to find a pen pal for her, and... Well, you know who I found."

For a moment, you were going to put in how much Sophia loved her letters and how much they've helped her feel better about herself, but thinking on it, you realize that might come off as trying to pressure her towards the thing you'll ask for her decision next.

"But that's why I wanted to see you today: about the letters. I realized that it...wasn't fair of me to get you involved without telling you. If something were to get out, and I get in trouble...I don't want people thinking you were involved. So, if you want..." it takes you a good few tries to get your bearings. "...I can destroy the letters you sent to ensure you won't get traced to us."

You try to look unbothered as you suggest it. This is Reita's choice, and you don't want to sway her. Even if it'll tear you apart to destroy something Sophia's loved so much to read, and reread, and reread again... It was your fault it happened like this. You hate yourself for that lack of foresight.

"So... What do you suspect is going to happen?" Reita questions mildly, giving you a weird feeling.

"Oh, well..." your heartbeat begins to pickup once more at the new subject. "Do you remember how weird Greg acted yesterday? I think that he...might know something. We are next door neighbors. He asked me if I lived alone, out of the blue, and kept looking at me like he was...trying to figure something out. M-Maybe I'm just being paranoid, but it just got me thinking. If the cops, or CPS, or whoever gets a warrant to search my house, I don't plan on hiding anything when they question me. I don't have anything to hide about her care under me...except for you. I don't want you to get tangled up in my mess, so I won't say anything about you, and I can destroy the letters you sent."

"..." Reita appears to give it some thought. "...What's your plan?"

"My...plan? I mean, I've been trying to think of anything, even before I decided I wanted to adopt Sophie. It's just... God. I just don't know." You admit, not realizing how your voice becomes gradually unsteady. "How am I supposed to get her legally recognized as my daughter? I mean, taking her in like I did must have broken some law, not to mention is shady as hell by virtue. And I'm just so scared they'll just place her into another abusive situation. I just...can't let her go back to that after she's finally found a place that actually cares for her. I-I..."

You clear your throat, and try to quickly renew your resolve.

"...I'm sorry. I love her like a daughter—she IS my daughter as far as I'm concerned—so I can't stop worrying about what could happen to her."

"..." again, Reita appears to be deep in thought. "...You mentioned a birthday video a few times. Could you show that to me?"

"Huh? Oh, of course. Just let me pull it up...."

You take out your phone and scroll through the camera, passing many happy Sophia pictures along the way. Once found, you present the video to her, much as you had to your parents. You really don't want to associate them with such a happy video, but it's a little hard after remembering their reactions to it.

Reita's reaction, is thankfully nothing like your parents. It was certainly much more tame, yet still manages to convey a great amount of emotion solely through how her eyes react to it all. They widen, dilate, and scan the screen closely, before resting on...what looks like guilt?

"Oh dear... Anon, I'm sorry."

"Huh? Sorry for what?"

For the first time since you began the story, Reita moves her hand away from her face, no longer obscuring her mouth. She dons a small, sad frown.

"When you told me you took a little girl home, I..." she pauses. "I mean, I didn't assume you had any ill intentions, but I could not help but feel..."

"No, it's fine. Trust me, I get it. I know it looks terrible without context, and that's why I was so scared to look for outside help," you say. "Honestly, I'd hope you'd be cautious hearing something like that."

Reita turns her head to stare out to the open, though it doesn't seem like she spots anything of particular interest. You await some kind of response from her, but that doesn't happen.

"...So, I'll destroy your letters. Again, I'm so sorry for getting you involved in the first place."

"I haven't made a decision yet," Reita responds, turning back towards you. "You did give me a choice, did you not?"

"Huh? Reita, are you sure? I mean, I don't know exactly how it works, but would you really risk being seen as some kind of...accomplice?"

Reita gives you a determined look.

"You told me that my letters really made Sophia happy, didn't you?"

"Well, I did... But that shouldn't...obligate you to have to face my own problems."

Reita gives a long pause at that, and you assume she's mulling over her decision. Instead, you find her asking something that would've threatened a spit take had you been drinking anything.

"...Could I meet her?"

***

It was Reita's decision to come over, and she understood that if anyone saw her riding with you to your house, it'd only put more suspicion on herself should you get found it. For that reason, you tried to get the car into the garage as quickly as you could. You don't think it was too likely she'd be noticed regardless, but it wouldn't hurt.

After the garage door closed, you and Reita share a brief silence as you sit together in the car. This is the first time you were bringing someone in to meet Sophia, and that keeps your mind occupied. You trust Reita, yet you still can't help but feel a strong sense of underlying nervousness about the whole thing. Part of you really wishes you could go back in time before you let her in on this secret you most certainly can't take back, as if there was some better path you could've taken, now closed off.

Reita also appears to be deep in thought. You can wager a guess towards what.

"So...uh... Just wait here for a second. I'll go ahead and ask Sophie," you say awkwardly. "But, if she isn't up to it..."

"...Of course," Reita nods, also not sounding the most confident. "As long as it is fine with her."

"All right. I'll...be back."

With that, you leave the deer woman to wait in the passenger's side seat as you step out. At first glance, she almost looks unnervingly patient, but noticing the way her eyes scan around the garage prevents her from appearing robotic. You take one last, brief look at her before you open the door leading toward the laundry room.

"Dad!" A familiar voice calls out as its source rushes toward you.

Before you can even shut the door behind yourself, you find that the little wolf has already run straight into your arms. You happily lift her up, and carry her away from the closing doorway to the garage.

"Woah, Sophie!" You said as you had lifted her. "I swear, you welcome me home quicker and quicker each time!"

"Th-That's okay, right?" She asks as she rests at eye level.

"Of course. Whenever I get back, the first thing I always want to do is see you again."

The little wolf smiles warmly, before leaning forward and wrapping her arms over your shoulders. You carry her back to the living room, smiling yourself at her affection, but still with Reita hanging within the forefront of your mind. Gently, you set her down.

"Now Sophie, I have something really important to ask you."

"Important...?" She questions after she's been set down, transforming to a curious, if a little nervous, expression.

"Don't worry, Sophie. There is no wrong answer. The most important thing is that you're comfortable with that answer. Do you understand?"

After a beat, she nods. You clear your throat.

"Good, so..." how should you present this question...? "I met with Reita today, and we were thinking—both of us were—that you might like to meet her in person."

Sophia's gaze takes on a surprised look, though it appears to relax quickly, seeming very unsure as her eyes dart down.

"U-Um..."

"Like I said, there's no right or wrong answer. I have to drive Reita back to her car. She's actually waiting in my car right now..." you explain, noticing as her eyes dart back to you with a worrying stare at that last piece of info. "We just thought, since we're here, we'd stop by and ask you if you wanted to meet her. She doesn't mind if you say no, she told me she only wants what you're comfortable with."

Sophia doesn't respond right away. Instead, her eyes search around the room, as if trying to find an answer written on the walls. At first, you worry all you're doing is stressing her out, and that she's obviously not comfortable meeting somebody else yet. But another look, and thinking back on most other times she's been nervous or scared, this doesn't appear as extreme.

"...Y-You'll be with me too, right?" She asks timidly, eyes finding their way back to you.

"Of course. I'll be with you the entire time. I won't leave your side for a second."

"...A-And you said she's really really nice?"

"She is. The letters she's sent you should tell you a good deal about that."

For a few, silent seconds, Sophia ponders your offer.

"...Okay," she finally answers.

"You sure, Sophie?"

"I-I...kinda want to meet her, too."

She does, huh? That's...actually really good, you think. If you hadn't set her up to be pen pals with Reita, you wouldn't have doubted that Sophia would be content only ever interacting with you.

"All right, Sophie," you say as her give her a loving hair ruffle, hopefully calming some of her nerves. She smiles a tad, so you think it worked. "I'll bring her in, then. Stay right here."

"Okay..."

With that, you make your way back to the laundry room. Putting a hand on the door to the garage, you take a deep breath. At this point, you don't remember if you should be worried about this... Which makes you worry all the same. You're really inviting someone else into your house to meet Sophia. It's difficult not to think it's a big deal, even if you trust Reita.

She's still sitting in the passenger's side when you arrive. Her gaze turns to you as you step inside the garage and open the driver's side door.

"She said yes," you inform her. "But...be careful not to overwhelm her. She's nervous about it."

"Nervous?" Reita questions. "Are you sure we should meet, then?"

You appreciate her concern for that, and you feel that much better about the whole situation.

"Even if she's nervous, she told me she really did want to meet you."

"I see," Reita nods. After a second, she opens the passenger's side and steps out. When she meets you at the other side of the car, she gives you a very genuine look. "I apologize if it feels like I'm...intruding."

"No, it's fine. Sophie needs this. I can't be the only one she trusts," you respond. "Now, let's not keep her waiting."

Turning around, you lead Reita further into your house. It certainly feels strange, and a fair bit uneasy, inviting a guest into your house (who wasn't family) for the first time. With the purpose of actually meeting Sophia, nonetheless. You really hope this isn't a bad idea.

As the leader, you reach the living room first.

"Hey, Sophie. I—Oh!" Before you know it, you find Sophia at your side, clutching your right hand with both of hers.

She's always looked at least a little shy, but you hadn't seen something quite like this before. Before you can say anything about it, you follow Sophia gaze directly towards the deer woman behind you. It seems Reita had stopped at a certain point to make some distance. Sophia probably appreciates that, you think as she partly hides behind your leg.

"Hello, Sophia. I'm so happy I can meet you in person!" Reita greets her with a very warm smile.

You feel Sophia's grip on your hand clutch even harder. She peeks out a little further from your leg. It seemed like she attempted to give any sort of response, but couldn't.

"..."

"Don't worry, Sophie," you whisper to her, giving one of her hands a comforting squeeze. "She's a very nice woman, and I'll be here the whole time."

Although her wary eyes continue to focus Reita, and her body appears nearly frozen, she returns the smallest possible nod of acknowledgment.

"U-U-Um..." she struggles to get out. "...H-Hi."

Reita's welcoming expression is both patient and unwavering. Upon finally hearing her voice, it only became more so.

"Thank you so much for your letters. I was always very excited to read them."

"M...M-Me too."

Sophia leans into you a little harder, and you just barely spot the embarrassed blush that forms on her face. You withhold a chuckle thinking she must have realized her response didn't quite make sense.

"It's okay, you're doing just fine," you give another supporting whisper.

Stepping out the slightest bit from behind your legs, Sophia makes her next attempt.

"...I-I loved your l-letters. ...I r-read them a-a lot."

"I'm so glad to hear that from you," Reita responds, adoration dripping from her tone despite trying to sound somewhat formal. "Being your pen pal is something I have enjoyed immensely."

You notice the borderline crushing grip on your hand seems to wane slightly.

"...A-And friend?"

"Excuse me?"

"Pen pal...and f-friend?"

"Oh! Absolutely!" Reita's quick to confirm. "You're such a wonderful girl, Sophia. I'm so thankful for Anon to have arranged the whole thing. I can't wait to exchange even more letters."

You give Reita a quick, surprised glance. There was your answer, you supposed. Reita gives you a knowing wink.

"I have to leave now. But Sophia, I just want to let you know... I feel very lucky to have been able to meet with you, and I know that anyone else who truly gets to know you should feel the same."

Upon hearing those words, Sophia steps slightly further from your legs, but she doesn't respond. Reita doesn't appear to mind, still smiling kindly at her, before turning to you.

"Should we head back, Anon?"

"Oh, of course," you say, before turning to Sophia. "All right, Sophie, I need to take Reita back to her car. I'll only be gone a couple of minutes."

Sophia finally freed your hand in response, and you gave her a pat on the head. With that, you walk back with Reita.

"Goodbye, Sophia," she says as you make your way past.

"W-Wait...!" You hear, and the both of you turn back to Sophia.

With caution in every step, Sophia slowly makes her way closer to Reita. Although she stops a fair bit before really getting close, you could tell the progress she made delighted the deer.

"...Thank you, R-Reita."

"You're very welcome, Sophie."

***

The ride back to her car is surprisingly silent. You know you should probably have a lot to say after all of that, but you just can't find the words. Perhaps Reita is having the same issue. But about halfway there...

"...I'm sorry for stealing her nickname." She says out of the blue.

"Huh?" You question, thinking back on it. "Oh, you did call her 'Sophie' didn't you? I hadn't realized. Uh, don't worry about it. It's not a very creative one anyway."

More silence. By now, however, you at least realized where you should start among all the things you could say about their meeting.

"...Thank you, Reita."

"Oh?"

"For the both of us, thank you."

You really mean it. You...finally...were able to tell someone about Sophia. About everything. "Liberating" doesn't describe the half of it.

"Anytime, Anon," she returns. "...I think the two of you make for a wonderful family."

The rest of the ride is silent, but it's by no means uncomfortable.

***

Returning home after dropping off Reita, you feel...soothed, for lack of a better term. You've been nothing but a ball of nerves lately, and that certainly reached its peak while you were preparing to confess to Reita. But now, at least for the moment, you enjoyed the lack of any sort of sensation of underlying dread. Of course, you still haven't learned anything more about the situation with Greg, so you knew it wouldn't be permanent. But for now, you enjoyed the moment of relaxation.

You find Sophia sitting in the dining room when you get back. Her head turns up at your arrival, but she doesn't immediately make her way to you like she usually does. She holds a look in her eyes, one of thoughtfulness and contemplation, though your presence seemed to have broken her concentration.

"Thanks for saying hi to Reita." You tell her. "You really made her day."

"...I did?" She questions quietly, sounding more like she was speaking to herself than actually asking you.

You pull up the chair next to her and sit down, before giving her hair a gentle ruffle. The quiet house leaves the two of you with your respective thoughts.

"...She really was nice." She comments after a bit. "I-I don't know...why I was scared."

You can think of a few reasons why. Being used to the adults in your life calling you annoying, having you sleep on the floor...hitting you...

You don't blame her.

"She is, isn't she? But so are you, Sophie. It's no wonder she wanted to be your friend."

Sophia makes a light hum, seeming a little doubtful. Your smile weakens a bit at that, and you make a quiet exhale through your nose. It hurt, seeing how her low self-esteem threatened to keep her trapped in the mindset that she wasn't worth anyone's time.

"I'm serious. Sophie...listen." You begin. "I know you're a good kid. Reita knows you're a good kid. But the most important person who needs to realize that, is you."

She turns her head away, and stares downward. Her ears droop.

"...I know." She admits. "It's...just hard."

"...I understand." You say, thinking about how often in her life she was told the opposite. You extend a hand for her, and when she puts her paw in it, you gently clasp it with both hands. "But I want you to promise me something."

That got her attention, you note as you see her eyes shift from your hands to your face.

"P-Promise...?" She questions, with a slight quiver in her voice.

"You've been so good. I've never really needed to ask anything of you before. But this is important." You tell her, squeezing the paw in your grip to help alleviate her nerves. "I want you to promise me that the first time you look into the mirror each day, you look at yourself, and you think about how there are people who love you. People whose days become brighter simply because you're around. Could you do that for me?"

As you await an answer, you watch as her occasional nervous tremors begin to subside. Her head tilts slightly to one side and dips a bit, breaking eye contact and seemingly moving into a state of pondering. You continue sitting patiently, before you notice Sophia's other paw raise, and place itself upon your hands. She uses the back of that paw to rest her forehead against as she leans in.

"O-Okay..." She half-mumbles. "...I promise."

"Good." You smile. "Thank you, Sophie. Just remember that it's not a fluke you're special to me."

Though still pressing her head against the pile of hands, she gives a nod. You can't see her expression too well. Hopefully you aren't asking too much of her.

"I like...having a dad." She says after a while.

"Aw, Sophie..." You remove one hand so you can pull her forward into an embrace. "Well, that dad loves having a daughter, and he wants her to be happy with herself too."

"..." A long pause. "...I'll try."

"That's all I ask." You tell her, hugging a little tighter. "You're the best thing that's happened to me. I just want you to be happy."

"...I understand."

It was comforting, hearing her say that, and knowing she'll at least try to have a better outlook on herself. You're no therapist, but you'd hope that if you kept instilling in her that she wasn't loved for nothing, she'll start to become less hard on herself. You meant everything you said. She's your daughter; you've felt the unconditional love you have for her as a parent. She's earned that place in your heart, and you want to ensure she knows it. There's no strings attached, no extraneous reasons or hidden feelings... You love her. It's as simple as that.

***

Sitting in bed after Sophia had been tucked in, you spent some time thinking to yourself. Frankly, you were getting tired of it. Tired of losing sleep pondering what few options you might have when it comes to officially adopting Sophia, and giving her a normal life. You want that more than anything, but you're so scared that trying anything at all jeopardizes what you have now.

But...you do realize that you can't do nothing forever. Even if you knew you'd never get caught, this isn't the life you want for your daughter. She needs to go to school, make friends her age, and at least be granted the opportunities that lie outside this house. Even if this is the best life she's been given, you want her to know it can still be so much better. Hopefully, Reita's kindness gave her a taste of it.

Reita... There's another thing to think about now. She's so willing to keep your secret, you're now worried she could possibly get in trouble along with you, should the worst occur. Perhaps, that could be the incentive you need to finally act. Now that there's someone else who could get caught in the collateral. Someone as nice as Reita to boot.

It really does feel that the longer you wait, the heavier the potential consequences get. You were first worried about what would happen to you, then you worried about Sophia, and now Reita can be added to that list too. You briefly wondered about your parents, but it was a little harder to care. Regardless, they weren't in on it, so you doubted they'd get in trouble. Reita though....

...You had to do something. Regardless of whether or not you can come up with the perfect solution, you need to do something. Worrying had long since become exhausting.

Pulling out your phone, you selected Reita from your contacts...but then decide against it. You want to leave as invisible a trail to her as possible. If there's a realistic chance your stuff is going to be searched through, calling or texting her should be avoided if possible. You'll just have to invite her to the park next time you see her.

***

"Ah. Hello, Anon!"

You're snapped out of your thought process at the sound of a familiar voice. Looking up from the park bench by the fountain, you find Reita walking your way. The deer woman is dressed in a light jacket, colored a soft red that you felt complemented her orangish-brown fur.

"Hey Reita, thanks for coming." You say as you make room for her. Her shoulder brushes against yours for a moment as she sits beside you.

"Of course." She responds, before her tone shifts a bit softer. "So... Is something bugging you?"

"Oh, well, kinda. I guess it isn't very difficult to tell, huh?"

"Your posture is so rigid." She tells you, almost matter-of-factly. "That's something my sister would always notice whenever I was caught up in bad thoughts."

You pause, and take a moment to perceive yourself. You were, in fact, quite tense as you sat slouching slightly forward. Spending so much time in your head just makes it easy to lose sight of things like that. You make a quick effort to loosen up a little, and make yourself more present. Reita's concerned eyes were something you were getting used to at this point.

"Well, nothing bad has happened." You say. "At least, not yet. I've just been doing a lot of thinking, and..."

"...And?"

You glance over at her, and then look toward the ground as you feel at the envelope in your coat pocket.

"I think it's finally time I...try something. To tell people about Sophie. Get her recognized as my daughter, if at all possible. Not go to jail too, preferably."

"Oh...! That's big news!" Reita remarks, evidently invested. "What are you planning to do?"

"Well, first thing's first, the reason I asked you out here..." You slide the unmarked envelope from your pocket, taking a moment to simply hold it and stare. "...It's best you take this."

You offer it to her, feeling a fluttering sensation of guilt as you do. Guilt for both Reita and Sophia, for differing reasons. As it leaves your hands, the feeling only intensifies, although it's also relieving at the same time.

"Another letter...?"

"Actually, those are all your letters you've sent to Sophie."

"What?" She blinks.

"Whatever happens, it's safe to say there's going to be a lot of questions I'll have to answer for. There's only one thing, in all my time with Sophie, that I feel I have something to hide." You tell her. "Your involvement. I don't want you getting tangled up in all this. It's nothing they'll need to know."

"Oh, Anon..." She pauses for a moment, delicately holding on to the envelope. A good amount of silence ensued as she seemingly pondered the situation. "...I could help you out, you know. I'm certain it will look much better if I can vouch for you."

"Reita..." You respond, a little at a loss for words. Was she really offering to do something so obviously risky for herself? "...I'm not going to ask that of you. I don't know what the repercussions are going to be...but I think we both know the worst possible way they can interpret this."

"That is exactly why I think I can help. That's much less likely to happen if I can give my own account—"

"Reita, I..." You interrupt, but quickly find you don't even know how to follow up. What even should you say? After a few seconds, you just feel like an asshole for cutting her off for nothing.

"Anon, let me be frank. Is there anything stopping me from giving my own account to them?"

"Well..." You give it a little thought, but the answer is already obvious. "No, I guess. I can't stop you if you decide that's what you want to do."

It's not untrue. This situation is no longer entirely in your hands. It's difficult to tell if you should feel more relieved or worried about that. It was the simple consequence of getting Reita involved that she could handle things how she saw fit. You shouldn't even have disliked her proposal as much as you did, because it could only benefit you. Regardless, you knew the reason why you didn't want her to help, at least like that.

"...Reita, the thing is, what I'm worried about most isn't myself. It's Sophie, obviously. I really don't want her suffer for what I've done. For her to experience what it's like to be loved, only for her to be put right back where she was... I can't even tell you how scared I am about that." You tell her, sounding down and deflated. "But after that, Reita, I'm scared about you."

"Me...?" Her ears flick.

"Yes. You were the one person I was able to confide in. I can't thank you enough for how much better you've made Sophia and I feel going through this. If you got in trouble because of me, I don't think that would ever leave me. You're...a good person, Reita."

"Oh..." Reita puts simply, and for a second, you thought you saw a tinge of red peek through the fur on her cheeks. "I...I hear you, I really do. But I think you're forgetting that even after I learned the truth, I still chose to stay involved. That was my decision, so if I really do get in trouble, then that will be my fault."

You give it a little thought, and you suppose you can't really argue that too well. She could've easily reported you the moment you opened up to her, but she didn't. She didn't even stop writing letters to Sophia either, which ultimately made her a knowing "accomplice" in this mess. Your appreciation for her is not easily expressed.

"Yeah... Yeah, I guess I can't really tell you otherwise. But still, I opened that door for you. At the end of the day, it's up to you what you want to do. But, even still, I don't want you punished for any of this. I..." You clear your throat, your mouth moving faster than your mind. "...I care about you, Reita."

You're not sure why that last part was a little harder to get out, because it certainly was true. Thinking on it, you probably could have put that a little more...eloquently, you suppose. Having it come out so blunt...

"Thank you, Anon..." Reita interrupts your thoughts, having turned her head. "I'll...keep yo– Er, that in mind. Whatever you decide to do, know that I'm just a call away if you want my help."

"I appreciate it, Reita, I really do." You say, before a question that's been growing in the back of your mind offers to fill the empty space. "...But, uh, I have to ask. How come you're so...on board with helping us?"

"Well, we are friends, are we not?"

"Of course. But still, I wouldn't have blamed you if you wanted nothing to do with this after learning the truth. ...That's what I expected, anyway."

"Mm..." Reita pauses for a moment with a thoughtful look on her face. "You've...been a good presence here for me. And seeing you with Sophia... I truly don't mind helping a father who cares so much about his daughter."

Upon hearing her words, a warmth in your chest ignites. There's something indescribably wonderful hearing someone else refer to you and Sophia as a true family. Your efforts and love for Sophia was not some fluke or bastardized image desperately trying to appear like a true father-daughter relationship, at least not to this deer woman. After all the terrible things your parents said, Reita's support is welcome more than ever.

"Thanks, Reita." Is all you can manage to say, but it's fine. You can tell that your expression does all of the talking.

***

You really don't know how much you want to tell Sophia. That is, if you decide to tell her at all. Whatever route you take, there's no way she's going to stay uninvolved until some point. Whatever happens, you don't want your daughter to be scared. There's been too much of that in her life.

You're certain there's going to be a rocky road ahead as you try to navigate this mess. If you simply come clean and hope they'll understand, there's no doubt that they'll be asking Sophia questions. For her to suddenly be placed under such scrutiny by strangers is hard to think about, but what's worse to imagine is her being placed back into an uncaring or even abusive home.

You think about Reita's words earlier, describing you as a father who wanted the best for his daughter. It warmed your heart to think about, and you wanted to ensure it was entirely truthful. The problem was that while you'd do anything for Sophia, the issue came from not knowing what exactly that "best" course of action would be. You suppose this must be the hardest part of being a parent. The unconditional love comes easy, but that makes you even more worried whether or not you're doing the truly correct things for her.

You suppose there's one thing you can at least start with.

"Hey Sophie." You say as you make your way towards her in the living room. She turns her head up from her drawing, leaning over the coffee table.

"Hi dad." She responds softly. Her pointy ears perk up as she looks to you.

"Could you sit with me for a moment?" You ask her, taking a spot on the couch. She nods and immediately makes her way over, leaving her crayons and paper behind, and dutifully settling herself in the empty space next to you.

"What is it?" She asks curiously as she looks up at you.

As you look back at her, you take a short breath as you prepare to talk with her. You know you have to be careful with what you say. Should Sophia ever be questioned, you don't want her to feel like she has to hide anything, nor do you want her to give the impression that you've had her rehearsing things for such a scenario. What you do want is for her to be even slightly prepared for a sudden intrusion from law enforcement or CPS, but at the same time, you don't want her expecting something like that and worrying because of it.

"Sophie... You're a really brave girl, you know that?" You tell her.

"I-I am?" She responds, a slight surprise evident in her voice. She looks down for a moment. "I...don't think so...."

"You are." You assure her, gently rubbing the top of her head out of habit. "Who was the girl who mustered up the courage to call me 'Dad' before I fully understood I wanted her as my daughter?"

She's silent for a second, presumably remembering that moment as she subtly leans in to your head patting.

"B-But... I was really really s-scared then." She admits, though of course you already knew.

"And you still did it anyway. Even if you were scared, you were still brave. There's a difference between being brave and fearless, you know." You explain. "Bravery comes from overcoming your fears. It's staying strong even in situations that makes you nervous or scared."

"Oh..." She mutters quietly.

"You've shown me, Sophie—proven to me—that you can be brave when it matters. I just want you to remember that you're stronger than you think, even in tough times." You say.

"It...doesn't feel like it." She responds like she was ashamed to say so.

"Maybe not, but that's okay. You need to remember you're still just a kid." You assure her, rubbing her head some more before really looking into her eyes. "You ARE a brave girl, Sophie. I want you to think about that even when it's hard."

"Okay." She nods so slightly you barely even notice. "...Thank you."

You would have let her go then, but you found that she allowed herself to lean into you as you sat together. Of course, you don't mind at all, pulling her closer until she's snug against you. What you were expecting even less was for her to bring up a talking point herself.

"I-I want to...like myself more. I'm trying." She says after a little bit of cuddling into you. "I know it...makes you sad when I'm sad. So I don't want to be."

You find yourself taking a deep but silent breath at that. It doesn't feel right that you should have to pity your own daughter like this. She deserves so much better. More than ever, you want her legally adopted as your own.

"Oh, Sophie... You shouldn't want to be happy for my sake. You should be doing that for you."

Sophia doesn't say anything in response, but you can tell you've put something on her mind. You let her think about that as you hold her close. You've got your own things to think about.

You can only hope that Sophia will take your words to heart. You meant it. You do believe she's a brave girl, but you do worry that she's gotten so comfortable solely being with you, that if other people were to start getting involved in your attempts to officially adopt her, it will be much harder for her to deal with it. Whatever happens in the future, you want her to be able to face whatever comes her way with some baseline of courage. Whatever bumpy road might be ahead, and wherever it leads, you want her to be even the slightest bit prepared.

After a good few minutes of silently comforting her, she eventually gets back to drawing. For your part, you take one last look at her before retiring to your room and grabbing your laptop. After giving Reita the letters back, and having that talk with Sophia, you suppose there's only one reasonable place to start with sorting all of this out. You need to research lawyers, both what they're legally allowed to do for you, and the possible candidates you could contact.

This was some pretty uncharted territory for you. You've never been in any sort of legal trouble or situations that might require one. You didn't know under what circumstances it'd be appropriate to hire one, and where the lines of confidentiality are drawn. This was no court case, not yet at least. This wasn't even solely trying to avoid any sort of legal punishment. This was trying to find out through what manner of procedure would be necessary to have Sophia legally recognized as your kid.

You suppose what worried you the most was if watching over Sophia like you have is technically an ongoing "crime", and if that means you can't guarantee any legal protections from a lawyer. You know attorney-client privilege is supposed to protect you, but you couldn't help but worry if the terms differ when you are not under—and ideally would avoid completely—any sort of court situation. Whatever the case, this was the only step forward you could see. You have nothing to hide in how you've treated Sophia. They can't prove anything you've never actually done. The issue comes with them worrying that you were planning something malicious in the future. How could you put that to rest? Even trying to be the best father you can could be perceived as a means to an end. You hate that thought so indescribably much.

Regardless, you have to do this. Even Sophia has noticed that the stress is really getting to you. You open your laptop and search for lawyers within your area.

***

After a good while of research, you had learnt a few things and found a couple of patterns. While lawyers obviously had a high baseline of legal knowledge, there were many that specialized in certain areas, with "family" being a somewhat common listing, although you found that tended to be for things like legal advice for marriage, divorce, and custody rights. You suppose custody rights was what you were looking for, but you were sure your case was a fair bit different than what any of them may have dealt with.

Regardless, you had zeroed in on lawyers who listed a family specialization. You didn't care about price or fees. Whoever would make it most likely that you and Sophia become an officially recognized family was all that mattered. After some thorough research through what few options you appeared to have, you settled on a name: Louie Desmond, veteran legal consultant with a specialty in family matters. Apparently, he's worked multiple custody cases before. Granted, that all seemed to have been working hand-in-hand with divorce proceedings, but it's looking like the best you've got.

You check the clock and find that it's getting late. You don't want to repeat the time you accidentally forgot to take Sophia to bed on time. You knew that had definitely worried her. You close your laptop and stand up, stretching a bit as you do. It's then that you hear Sophia's voice. From the sounds of it, she's in the bathroom, probably to brush her teeth for the night. As you peer out from your room, you spot her looking at herself in the mirror.

"Dad loves you." She says to her reflection. "Reita...l-likes you. I-I..."

She freezes a little. Whatever she was going to say, she can't seem to finish it. Her pointy ears flick, and she turns to you.

"...Hi Dad."

"Hey Sophie. You about to brush your teeth?"

"I just did." She answers.

"Ah, good. Are you ready for bed?"

"Mm-hm."

"All right." You smile. "I'll tuck you in."

Sophia returns a smile of her own, though a much more reserved one of course. You give her some privacy so she can change into her pajamas. As you find her sitting on her bed, looking safe, comfortable, and happy, you can only pray that she'll stay that way after you try going through whatever legal hoops are necessary to make this official. For now, you drape the blankets over Sophia until she's snugly under the covers with only her head poking out.

"Goodnight, Sophie." You say. "I love you."

"I love you too."

After you leave her room, her voice echoes in your head, and you use it to muster up the resolve to contact the lawyer.

***

Louie Desmond did not work at a law firm, although he used to. You had expected any sort of office building, but you instead ended up brought towards a condo highrise closer to the center of the city. The pricing samples were making more sense, but you promised you'd get the best you could for this situation. The lobby was just as nice looking inside as the building looked on the outside, and you preemptively felt your wallet ache. After taking an elevator up to the seventh floor, you find yourself in an very short hallway of which the only door—other than the elevators and a stairwell entrance—was for the residence of the "Desmond Law Office, Attorney at Law." You were a couple minutes early, but you hoped that would be fine. You ring the buzzer and await a response.

"Desmond Law Office." A male voice comes from the speaker.

"I'm Anon. I have an appointment scheduled with Mr. Desmond." You introduce yourself.

"Ah, yes. Right on time. Please come in."

You hear a lock click from the door, and you take that as your cue to reach for the door handle. What you find on the other side is pretty much just what you expected: no shortage of expensive looking furnishings, presumably one-of-a-kind lighting setups, and a large glass wall that provided an excellent view of the city. Standing ahead of you in an equally nice looking suit was Louie Desmond, another human male like yourself, of average height and a good few years your senior by the looks of him.

"Hello." He welcomes you with a cordial smile. "I understand you're looking for some legal advice? Please, have a seat over here."

He leads you towards a room off to the side to what looks like a more traditional office space, though the desk and chairs look especially nice. As you take a seat, you begin to realize how tense you were starting to feel. It seemed like this was going to be another point of no return where you'll have to tell someone else about Sophia. You remind yourself that this was a very necessary step, even if you can't help but worry it'll go sideways through some reason or another.

"Would you like a glass of water?" He offers before he sits down.

"Oh, uh, no thanks." You blink.

"There's no need to be tense, Mr. Mous." He says as he sits down, having you suddenly evaluate your posture. "If and after we determine any sort of payment plan, you will be free to tell me anything without fear of judgement. It is not my job to judge, only to guide you towards your desired outcome."

That's nice to hear, at least. It's not enough to tear the paranoia from you entirely, but it's something you were definitely hoping he'd say. You clear your throat and nod.

"Yes, well, in terms of a payment plan, I thought the retainer agreement would probably work best." You say. "I've already got a check for the initial payment."

"You do? You come more prepared than most of my clients." Louie nods, evidently somewhat impressed. "I assume then you've already done some research on how it works? To be clear, the money you provide will be put into a trust account, and will be deducted per my hourly rate whenever I'm providing my services for you. You will be free at any time to either replenish the account, or rescind from our agreement entirely for a fee. Do you have any questions about that?"

"No, I don't." You confirm, bringing out the check you had prepared. You weren't going to be loose with your money for a while.

"Before I accept this check, I need to ensure that you understand this will form a legal agreement between the two of us. Anything you tell me will be protected by the attorney-client privilege, which means I cannot and will not use anything you say in a way you do not explicitly approve of. The only exception to this privilege is if you are intending to use my services to assist in future unlawful activity you have not yet participated in." He informs you with stiff professionalism. "If you consent to these terms, that will be an acknowledgment that you understand them, and then we can get started."

You were sure you understood enough. What he had said pretty much aligns with the research you had done, which was at least a little comforting.

"I understand and agree." You confirm, handing him the check.

"Very well." He smiles before clasping his hands together. "Now then, I'd assume you'd want to move right in to a consultation, yes?"

"Right." You answer, taking a glance at the clock and noting the time.

"All right. What do you wish to talk about? In your email, you mentioned something about custody rights."

"...Yes, that's correct." You answer, realizing you were on the cusp of telling another person about Sophia.

"Is the divorce ongoing, or completed?"

"There's no divorce."

"No divorce? Is this an adoption then? Perhaps from family?"

"Yes, it is an adoption, but..." You freeze for a beat. "...Well, it's a weird situation, and that's why I really need legal advice. I just...really have no idea how to legally traverse this."

"That's what I'm here for. Tell me about it in detail. Remember, everything you say is protected and purely between us."

"Right..." You take a deep inhale through your nose. You're terribly nervous of course, but you steel yourself thinking how this will be a concrete step forward in, hopefully, making Sophia officially family. "There's a girl who's been in my custody for a couple of months now. There's no blood relation between us—she's an anthro, in fact."

"An anthro?"

"Yes. A wolf. She doesn't know her own age. If I had to guess, she's somewhere around...eight or nine years old, give or take. I have no idea who or where her mother is. Her father... I think he is or was in jail before she even got to know him, possibly before she was born." You recount, realizing once again just how terrible of a life she had been living before. It only encourages your drive to give her a happy new home. "Whatever the case, she never knew either. She was in an abusive foster home for a long time, but apparently they just...abandoned her. I don't know why or how. They just...left her in the city and moved somewhere else, it seemed."

"I...see..." Mr. Desmond says, evidently deep in thought about what you had just told him. "...And where do you come into the picture?"

You clear your throat as you prepare to share your involvement. Your reservations are heavy, but you manage to pull through. You explain how you had come across her one day, and how you learned she had nowhere to go. You told him your thoughts, as irrational and floundering as they may had been, were simply ingrained in the idea that you could so easily provide her a respite from her suffering. No kid deserves what Sophia had gone through, and CPS had already failed her hard somewhere along the line, so you—with her permission of course—decided to take matters into your own hands. It was only supposed to be a temporary arrangement, but, well... That's why you're here.

Mr. Desmond lets you speak without interruption, wearing a mostly neutral expression on his face that occasionally makes the subtlest squints and shifts as if he were running calculations in his head. Multiple times you'd say something that'd have him typing something into his computer, which wasn't the most comforting for you, but you knew that was being excessively worried. You hope, at least. The ball's already rolling, and there's no use stopping it at this point.

"...So, if there's anyway I can become her legal guardian, I'll take whatever steps are necessary. I just really don't know what those steps are." You finish, taking a deep inhale. "Is that...something you can help with?"

The lawyer clasps his hands into a ball by his mouth as he props his elbows on the desk. His eyes appear to glance every direction except straight ahead as he considered what you told him. The silence weighed heavy on you.

"Mr. Mous, full disclosure, this is very unlike anything I have worked with, experienced, or researched." He finally says. "When it comes to establishing child custody not through typical childcare services, preexisting familial ties and dynamics are often the crucial factors at play. If not that, some other reasonable connection is expected. If you were, for example, Sophia's favorite teacher, or the family-trusted regular babysitter, there'd be a lot of room to argue the validity of the arrangement. From the sounds of it, however, you seem to be doing this completely from scratch."

"...Yeah, I have. It's just that Sophia doesn't have anyone else like that." You say. "According to her...I'm the first person she's ever been able to trust and be happy with."

"Hmm..." Mr. Desmond purses his lips for a moment. "That may be true, though in such a case, the first thing they would look for is any possible family the child might have that she doesn't know about. Aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins of age, however distant they may be on her family tree. That's always what they look for and try to contact first."

"And if they can't find any who'd take her in?"

"Foster care." He answers simply. "Unless there is someone else who holds a deep and reasonable connection to the child, as mentioned before."

"So could that be me?" You ask, not knowing if you sounded more hopeful or desperate.

"Mr. Mous, let me tell you, I understand not trusting CPS to do a good job re-homing her. Believe me, I understand that the current system is up in place is terribly flawed, and many children suffer for it. Especially anthros. I am being completely honest when I say I don't find it hard to believe that ultimately this girl ended up significantly happier with you than what could've happened if you hadn't taken her in like you did. But I believe we both know that one cannot simply take a homeless child home even with the noblest of intentions." He explains. "Here's my first big piece of advice. The path to adoption is not the one you should be worrying about right now. You should be worried about being accused of kidnapping or child abuse."

Those words pierce you like arrows. This is a discussion about a girl you've come to see as a daughter, so to hear such heavy words sound especially disgusting to you at the moment.

"Kidnapping? From who? She was abandoned!" You say, sheer disbelief coloring your tone. "And I've never done anything to hurt her. Never would I even think about it."

"Unfortunately that's just how they may categorize what you've done." He tells you. "It is simply not lawful to acquire a child as you had. However I believe, if everything you told me is true, you have a good chance to make the appeal that you've done no harm and avoid any sort of trouble. I will be completely honest with you, adoption in your position is extremely unlikely. I'd recommend shifting gears towards working on an appeal that your involvement should not be viewed as negative and punish-worthy. I will be able to assist you much more efficiently if you do, more so than a truthfully unprecedented adoption. If you wish to rescind our agreement immediately because of that, I'll even forgo the fee. Everything you told me is still protected."

An uncomfortable weightlessness in your chest opens up. This isn't what you wanted to be hearing. This isn't what you wanted to be hearing at all. Getting in trouble with the law wasn't even your biggest worry anymore, and it hadn't been for a while now. Having Sophia think that the two of you were going to be family before sweeping the rug out from underneath her now was. You believe wholeheartedly that she IS your daughter, and you know she's the same way thinking about you as her father. You were damned if you did, damned if you didn't. Had you not taken in Sophia as you did, you never would've been able to build that connection with her nor come anywhere close to realizing you might like to be a father, but in doing so you've been put in a position where even a lawyer experienced in child custody cases is telling you it's not looking likely.

"Mr. Desmond, I'm sorry, but I have to insist I stay on the track to adoption. We're... We're a family."

"I see... As long as you understand what I told you. Our agreement is to be spent discussing whatever you determine." He says. "Although if are truly determined to see this adoption through, you'd have to make the appeal regardless. I'll do some research on my own time, but what I believe the best avenue you have at the moment is to look into her previous foster home."

"Her foster home? I've never pressed her about it." You remark, solemnly thinking about what few things she has mentioned about it. "It makes her very uncomfortable. She was abused by them after all."

"It may be your best option. There appears to had been something more going on. If she were abandoned by her foster home as you've explained, a routine check on the home should have recognized that. There would have been a missing child report, or even possibly an AMBER alert, yet I haven't found any evidence that such a thing was ever instated. Whatever the case, this has very likely been the result of a major oversight from the law, CPS, or both. With her history of abuse and you pressing that oversight, an appeal that your involvement was necessary and overall positive will be much more substantial."

"...I see." You say, not liking the idea about asking Sophia to tell you about the very people you wanted her to forget about.

"Again, I have to tell you that an adoption like this is extremely unlikely." He says, and you hate hearing that even if it is true. "There are many deceptive people out there, and only you will ever truly know your own intentions. That is going to be on the minds of those you'll need to appeal to."

"I...understand." You sigh. "All right. I'll ask Sophia about it."

"If you wish to be efficient with our time, we may stop the session here, and you can come back after you learned more about her foster home."

"Yeah... Yes, I'll do that." You agree, standing up from your chair, and feeling a slight, unfamiliar sense of dizziness. He does the same and offers a handshake. "Thank you. Really, thank you so much."

You feel kind of exhausted despite having only been sitting and talking. You suppose that came from hearing the less than optimistic rundown about the adoption chances.

"It's what I'm here for. Feel free to call when you're ready to schedule another meeting."

***

You've had a sinking feeling ever since the meeting had ended. No, ever since he had told you that an adoption wasn't likely. It was a feeling that was slowly building up as you thought about the possibility that there would be no way to prevent Sophia from being taken away. It was certainly the only thing on your mind as you drove home. You just couldn't stomach the thought that by the end of all this, you'll have lost everything you had built with your daughter.

You had to remind yourself constantly that Mr. Desmond never used the word "impossible" or anything like that. That he admitted this was unlike anything he had known, and that the details were still being determined between the two of you. Even if you had to force yourself, you needed to be optimistic. You really weren't looking forward to asking Sophia about the people who had abused her before, but it was the only path set out for you. Any direction at all was something you had been needing for a long time.

You think about how you'll want to approach her with it, rehearsing some things in your head as you drive into your neighborhood. Your thoughts are interrupted as your phone starts ringing. Your mind immediately goes to your lawyer, or possibly Reita. With no other cars around, you manage to weasel your phone from your pocket and answer it.

"Hello?"

"Is this Anon?" A gruff man's voice asks. It's someone you don't recognize, and immediately you're left uneasy.

"Uh, yes. That's me. Who is this...?"

You're given an answer before the man says anything else as you turn onto your street. If you had been paying attention to your peripheral, you would have noticed how your face turned a ghostly white in your rear view mirror, but your full focus was deathly absorbed on what was ahead. A couple of police cars are parked in front of your house, and you spotted a pair of officers standing at your front door. It felt like your heart had just shriveled up and died.

"My name is Officer Maurice. There's been a search warrant approved on your residence. I'm informing you that you have the right to oversee the search before we let ourselves in."

***

Your nightmare was realized. Your heart stopped dead in its tracks, and if you could spare it any thought, you'd worry if it'd ever start up again. If there was any time to see if all your fretting about this happening every night going to bed would've actually been useful in some way, it was right now. And yet, despite all that looming stress and constant worry, you did not feel anything close to a semblance of preparedness. Instead, it felt like you'd been shot in the chest.

"Sir?" Officer Maurice said, prompting you to realize being stunned in shock could only damn you further.

"Y-yes, uh, sorry. I guess I'm just...confused on what this is all about?"

"Are you in your house, sir?"

"No, I just...turned onto the block right now, actually. I...think I see you." You say as you get closer, trying to maintain a steady and casual composure in your voice.

The officer turns around to your car, and watches with an expressionless stare as you move past the police cars and stop at your driveway. The path from around the block to your house felt like the longest part of your drive, despite how much the ride home already felt like it was dragging after hearing what you hadn't wanted to hear with Mr. Desmond. Your mind was racing, and yet at the same time, wasn't going anywhere, and you had too little time to fortify your demeanor and resolve. Your hands shake on the wheel, and you have to freeze in place for a bit after turning off your car.

This is happening. You have to stick with the plan. You have nothing to hide in your care for Sophia. You told yourself that if something like this happened, being completely compliant would best prove your intentions as true as they were. As strange as a circumstance as your connection to Sophia was, it was nothing but positive for the both of you. You take one last deep breath.

"Heading over now." You say to the phone, as collected as you had sounded so far, though still not quite as much as you had wanted.

You take a step out of your car and on to the pavement of your driveway. You had thought about parking in the garage instead, going inside to take a quick moment to warn Sophia about what was going to happen, before meeting the officers at the front door. However, you didn't know if the officers would have allowed that, and even if they would, it would place more unwanted suspicion on you considering it'd give you a short window to react to their sudden search warrant. You just hated thinking about how this was going to happen on Sophia's end.

Oh god, you really, REALLY hate imagining how this is going to be like for Sophia. Without warning, a group of strangers walking into your house, likely going to take her away when she hasn't interacted with anyone but you and Reita for months. Knowing her, you can't imagine her being anything less than terrified, and just imagining her wide eyes and flattened ears makes you feel like your heart is being clawed out of your chest. All the sudden you wish you had gone inside first to give Sophia any sort of heads up, even if it'd make you look more suspicious in the long run. It just makes you feel like the shittiest father imaginable thinking about how Sophia's point of view will react to this. Why couldn't this be just a bad dream?

"You're Anon Mous?" The officer, a slightly stocky human, asks as you get closer. He studies you with hardly any discernible emotion, and you hoped that his slightly narrowed brows were simply were they naturally rested on his face.

"I am." You say in the most neutral tone you could. You tried to take deeper breaths and shut out your worries so that you don't look like you're about to crack from pressure.

"And this is your residence?"

"It is."

Standing face to face with an officer like this was had been a consistently daydreamt nightmare ever since you first picked up Sophia. For a second, you tried to scrounge through your memories to figure out what mistake you must've made along the way for this to have happened, but you quickly put that aside. You needed all your headspace in keeping your cool. At least, as cool as you can play this off considering you're very likely to have your own daughter taken away from you. The pure dread snaking through your veins is impossible to tune out.

"As I've mentioned, we have an approved warrant to search your house, spanning the entire premises inside and out." He informs you, handing you a copy of paper confirming just that. It's the heaviest sheet of paper you've ever held in your life. "You have the right to oversee the search, and you have the right to argue any perceived overstepping on our part. However, any obstruction to the search can and will be punished as misdemeanor. Is that understood?"

"...Yes." Is what you find yourself responding with, feeling pressured to give an answer as snappily as possible to stave off suspicion.

You wonder if you should request they wait for you to get your lawyer over, or even to just call him. Were you allowed to do that? Would they listen? If they had a warrant, surely they can search your house regardless of your legal situation. Would requesting your lawyer make it look worse once they find Sophia? A lot of what you were banking on was how blameless you were, not needing to hide anything from them (minus Reita's involvement of course, but that also wasn't anything that reflected badly on you). Insisting for your lawyer before the search could definitely be taken as a sign against you, even if it wouldn't be true.

"Can you unlock the door for us?" He asks in another blunt and expressionless tone, sounding more like an instruction than a question.

"...Yes, here. Let me get that..." You say, pulling out your keys and carefully trudging towards your front door to unlock it.

You've done nothing wrong. There's no need to worry. Things will sort themselves out once everyone has the full story. So just don't worry.

You hear the click inside the lock as you turn your key through it. It sounded louder than it usually did. A memory of Sophia plays in your mind randomly, and it doesn't go away. You reach for the doorknob, but after grasping it, you freeze for a moment.

"...Officer?" You say with a naturalness in your voice that feels uncanny considering what's currently happening, your hand still frozen on the doorknob as you turn to look back at him. "Is there anyone among you who's good with children?"

"...'Scuse me?" He asks after a beat, clearly put off.

"Well, I've got my daughter here, and I'm worried this search is going to scare her. If you're going to ask her some things, I'd ask that you get anyone who might already have experience taking care of young children." You explain, weirdly steady and composed. "I know you're just here to do your job, but, if you can, I'd be grateful if you'll be considerate in how she might be feeling during all of this."

Officer Maurice stares at you without any immediately response, simply with a very confused and furrowed brow. He looks back at some of his fellow officers, who appeared similarly unsure what was happening. When he turns back to you, his expression remains unchanged.

"Just something I wanted to mention." You add, taking your phone out of your pocket, unlocking it with view for him to see the passcode, and handing it over to the very confused officer, which only seemed to perplex him further. "Whatever record this needs to go on, I give you my permission to search everything I own, for whenever that might be needed."

You only ever had one strategy thought up in a situation like this. Let them see you have nothing to hide. Let them see the kind of father you are. Let them see how happy Sophia has been with you. Every place they look, and every thing they search will only prove your case.

With that, you finally turn the knob and enter the house. You don't have much time. While Officer Maurice was distracted with both your phone and the other officers, you stepped inside.

"Sophie?" You called out into the house. "Are you upstairs?"

"D-Dad...?" Her voice called back from her room, and you could immediately sense both the fear and relief in her tone.

"I'm heading up, so don't worry." You say back, keeping a casual voice for the officers.

If she responds back, it's something too quiet for you to hear. As you make your way up the staircase, you wonder how long it'll take for the officers to follow you. You don't look back to check, but you know there won't be much time.

Sophia's door is closed, and when you open it, you find her sitting on her bed looking very uneasy. She lifts herself up upon seeing that it's you, before rushing straight into your open arms. There's a brief moment of silence as you embrace each other, both holding the other tightly.

"Dad... W-What's happening...?" She asks, obviously very alarmed. "I-I heard knocking, a-and voices, a-and... I didn't know what t-to do..."

Your heart hurts. It hurts fiercely. Hearing the stress in her voice is like poison to your soul when you know this is only going to get worse. You feel an overwhelming sense of paternal instinct telling you to make this right, to make your daughter feel safe and secure. You can only do your best for however long this brief moment will last, so you need to make it count.

"Sophie..." You begin softly, still hugging her tight. "These people won't hurt you, so you don't need to be scared of them."

"...W-Who are they?" She asks after a short pause, slightly calmer.

"They're...people who want to make sure you're safe. They might ask you some things, they might...take you somewhere. But I promise you, they're not going to hurt you." You want to say more, but you don't have much time. You can already hear footsteps arriving at the lower level. "I'm sorry this is so sudden, Sophie. I'm really really sorry."

The hug is broken, but you keep your hands on her shoulders as you level with her. You notice a slight shake in her pupils, and her ears are halfway folded against her head.

"T...Take me s-somewhere...?" Her voice is a little faint. The hole in your heart is torn even larger.

"Sophie... Remember what I said before? You're a brave girl. Even if you're scared or unsure, you're brave."

"...I am scared..." She tells you. Those three words are utterly crushing to you, but you try your damndest not to show it.

"That's okay. Even still, you're brave and you're strong, even if you don't feel like it."

Footsteps start approaching from the stairwell. God, you need more time...! Why can't you have just a little more time...?!

"Sophie, no matter what happens, remember that you're braver than you think you are. Remember that for me, even when I'm not here to tell you it." You say, eyes locked to show your seriousness. "You're going to be okay, and I'm going to sort this out."

As you keep your hands on her shoulders, you spot the slight shaking in your own arm. It seems that Sophia isn't the only one who needs to be brave right now. You were about to pull her into another hug, but she was a second ahead of you, lunging forward into you and clinging her arms around you.

"There's nothing to be worried about." You find yourself saying, and you hate yourself for saying it. You're lying to your daughter, but you don't know what else to do.

You don't want her to be scared right now, but you know the future in how all this will go down is completely uncertain. What if she ends up waiting for you to "sort this out," but can't because you end up behind bars? The mental image of her waiting for you only to never show up... You just... You just can't...

"Sir?" A voice behind you sounds. Sophia's hug tightens the most you've ever felt.

"It's okay, Sophie. Remember, it's okay." You speak softly to her. She responds with a very quiet noise or murmur you can barely catch despite how close you are. You can only hope it's some response of acknowledgment or affirmation.

"Sir." The officer repeats. You know your time is up. "There are some questions..."

He stops himself, likely noticing Sophia behind you, hugging as strongly as her little arms could muster. You give one more comforting pat over the head before standing back up and facing the officer. It's not Maurice, though he is another human male. He looked a fair amount younger than Maurice.

"Hello officer, this is Sophia." You tell him, placing a hand on her head as she clings to your leg. "She's really shy, so please keep that in mind."

He stares for just a second or two, looking between you and Sophia, before pulling up a radio.

"Maurice? ...Yeah, he's upstairs... He's got... There's a kid with him." He speaks into it, with you catching a muffled voice through the transceiver here and there. "...A wolf...? Yeah, looks like..."

It feels awkward to simply stand there as the officer communicates to the others about you and Sophia. The desperation in your veins has you wanting to do something, anything, right about now. There's a small part of you that wants to pick up Sophia and run, as if there were anywhere you could actually go. No, whatever they needed you to cooperate with was simply what was going to happen. There is no other choice for you.

It's not long before you hear more footsteps coming upstairs. You continue to rub the top of Sophia's head to hopefully ease her nerves any amount whatsoever. The way she holds on to you for safety has your heart crying out for her. You love your daughter so much... How can you possibly keep it together?

A small collection of officers arrive at the entryway to Sophia's room, headed by Maurice. It seems he handed off your phone to the one to his left. Maurice takes a look from you to Sophia.

"Sir, what is your official relationship with that girl?"

"Nothing legally recognized...but I'd call her my daughter."

He widens his stance a bit, sticking his thumbs through his belt.

"Why is she in your house, and exactly how long has she been here?"

"I asked why she was out on the streets all by herself, and she told me she had no one to go to. I let her stay at my home with the intention of finding a place to take her. I couldn't, but ended up wanting to take care of her myself. She's been with me longer than five months now."

"Then why, at no point, did you try reaching out to CPS?"

"I understand I probably should've done that immediately after I found her, but I didn't. There were a few reasons for that. I guess, simply put, I was way out of my element and was very unsure how I should've handled it. I'll be completely honest, I was very scared how this looked. I was scared what anyone would say the moment I took her home." You explain. "I hesitated for too long, which only made it look worse and worse. But I had made her my responsibility, so I couldn't just find any potential adopters, nor would I ever think to have her abandoned again. To be frank, considering she even found herself in this position made me worry even CPS wouldn't truly place her in a good spot."

The officers are completely silent as you explain your reasonings in complete honesty. Their scrutinizing gazes have you feel incredibly uncomfortable, but you can only wonder just how much it's effecting your daughter clinging tightly to you, deathly silent. It's like the most bizarre form of stage freight, trying to remain as steady as you are considering your story and audience.

"It just... Well, from my perspective, this kind of status quo just felt the safest and easiest. I know that Sophia is safe with me. I know she's taken care of here, to the best of my ability, and not out on the streets or placed with abusive caretakers. I know my own intentions. I can promise you they're not bad, and I will cooperate in any way required until that point is made. Originally I wanted to find and contact a trustworthy family that I could set up something where they'd eventually get her adopted without my involvement being known, but..." You pause for a bit, taking a glance at Sophia. "Well, Sophia had already gotten comfortable with me. She uh... She called me 'Dad' one day... Took me by complete surprise, but it helped me realize that...I'd like that too."

Behind your parents, Reita, and your lawyer, this was the fourth time you've told anyone about Sophia. You had wanted to be able to proudly introduce her as your daughter without worry of any consequences. Was that never a possibility?

You watch as some of the officers look at each other with unsure glances, with the sole exception of Maurice. He eyes Sophia hugging your leg for a moment before looking at you. Despite his gruffer visage, you can tell there's uncertainty in his thoughts as well.

"Step away from the child, sir." He instructs candidly.

You hate how he said that, like there was no connection between the two of you; speaking like you weren't her dad. You tried not to show it in your face how much that rubbed you the wrong way.

Sophia, conversely, did react. Her grip on you tightened, and she pulled herself closer so that her forehead pressed into your side.

"Don't go..." She pleaded in a quiet whine, claws fully unsheathed. "P...Please."

Her words shoot directly through your heart. You've been trying to keep your worry and building anxiety in check, locked up like a safe in the back of your emotions. Your daughter's scared voice melts right through that safe, if only for a moment, having you crack a quiet, shallow gasp that quakes your chest.

"S-Sophie..."

Another soundless pause ensued, or it would've been if it weren't for Sophia's tense breathing. That, and your heart thumping in your chest, but you were the only one who could hear that. Probably.

From your peripheral, you could see all the officers, Maurice included, were focused on Sophia after her reaction. Despite his previous instruction, Officer Maurice didn't say anything as, instead of stepping away from her, you instead turned to face her, lowered yourself to her height...and scooped her into a hug that matched her own grip on you.

"It's okay, Sophie. They're not going to hurt you." You tell her. "It's okay... It's...okay."

Another long pause....

"...Be brave for me, Sophie."

Breaking the hug hurts, because you can witness how your words had succeeded in making her comfortable enough to—hesitantly—allow the separation, retracting her claws and letting go of you. It's a separation you have no idea how long will last.

The little wolf girl stands frozen next to you, fidgeting a little due to the nerves she must be feeling. Her head is initially turned down to the floor, obscuring her expression, but when she looks up at you, you notice her glossy, watering eyes first.

"I-I'll...be brave..." She promises, voice quaking. "...D-Dad."

The pit in your chest feels endless. If words could kill, this wasn't how you would've expected them to. How could you end up in such a terrible spot? You know you shouldn't, but you just can't help giving Sophia one last pat on the head and the most genuine smile you could force. The fur under your palm feels so soft. You aren't going to forget how it feels.

With deep resignation, you turn away from Sophia, looking at Officer Maurice for further instruction.

"What do I need to do?" You ask, voice a little dry.

"Step this way and follow me."

It seems it's finally time, especially while there's no longer a little wolf girl anchoring you in one spot. Without any certainty on what is going to happen, nor anything you might possibly be able to do about it, you comply with the officer and step over to him. You take one last look back at Sophia before being led out of her room. It was the last opportunity until who-knows-how-long you'd be able to speak with her again. You thought about reminding her to stay strong, or to apologize again for this to have happened.

"It's going to be okay. I love you." Is what you settled on, in a quiet but deeply warm and caring voice.

You shouldn't have said that. You knew you shouldn't have, even if it was a completely automatic response, like all the times you've tucked her into bed. You could see in her eyes that those last three words...

"I-I love y-you, t-too..." She nearly blubbers it, trying to hold back whatever tears aren't already running down her face.

You made your daughter cry.

As if it could possibly measure up as any compensation, you try to give her a smile that tells her not to worry. Your own eyes might've been a little too wet for that.

"Sir." Officer Maurice repeats behind you.

"Yes. Sorry." You say, finally breaking eye contact with Sophia and turning away, although hesitantly with how much it hurts to do so. You know for certain that her expression is going to linger in your mind for a while. Certainly until the next time you see her... Whenever that may be....

The other officers part so you can walk past and follow Maurice out of Sophia's room. As you pass them, one last thing crosses your mind.

"She's got a stuffed rabbit. Let her hold on to that." You advise them as you walk out.

Officer Maurice leads you back downstairs, and you quickly realize that one of the others had followed behind you, ensuring there was an officer in front and behind you. You didn't like what that foreboded, though your mind was still primarily thinking about Sophia. Once at the front door, your lesser fear is founded: Maurice takes the handcuffs hanging from his hip.

"Turn around. Wrists together behind your back." He instructs, stern like usual, though with a slightly quieter voice.

You wordlessly comply. The cold metal locking your wrists together is not a friendly feeling to say the very least. You had never imagined nor expected you'd ever have a pair of handcuffs on in your life. It's certainly not an experience you'd like to brag about, but you try to take some solace knowing that this wasn't for a crime with any degree of maliciousness.

"Turn again." He says after the cuffs are on. You do so as he opens the front door, and guides you outside. "I am placing you into police custody until we get more information. This is not an arrest yet, but you will be detained and questioned. Is that understood?"

"Yes." You nod. That was good news, you hoped. Your protection was your genuine care for Sophia, so if this isn't a true arrest yet, then getting more info should only help you.

At least, you really hoped.

As you're guided through the front yard to a police car parked out in front of your house, you briefly glance towards your next door neighbor's house. It must've been Greg who got the warrant approved on your house, you imagined. After the sudden weird looks he gave you, and the suspicious questions he asked, he seemed the most likely. Although the question remained on how and why he developed those suspicions in the first place.

Maurice opens the door to the back seat, and has you shuffle inside. The metal cuffs on your wrists were uncomfortable enough, so it was only made worse having to sit down with your arms held directly behind your back.

It's hard to know what you should be saying or thinking right now. You can't even define your feelings right now. The best you can describe them as is a deep well of dread and emptiness. The thoughts in your head are so prominent that it's hard to completely take in any of your surroundings.

Maurice gets into the car in the driver's seat and starts up the engine. You're completely silent as you're driven through the neighborhood. Maurice communicates with some of his fellow officers, and you put all of your mental focus into listening into the voices on the other side.

"Daniels? Was CPS called?"

"Yeah, Johnny's doing that now. We're watching over the kid here." You're able to hear clearly enough, and the mention of Sophia allows you to tune everything else out.

"What's she doing?" Maurice asks.

"Just sitting on her bed, clutching a stuffed animal. Hasn't said anything since the guy was taken away."

"Well let Johnny watch over her. We don't need two pairs of eyes on her. You go with the rest and keep searching the place. Document anything indicative of her treatment there."

"Yes sir."

"Do you need my laptop password?" You find yourself speaking up, and Maurice's head almost turns back to you before snapping back to the road. "The laptop's on my bedside countertop."

"..." Officer Maurice pauses a beat, apparently caught off guard by your cut in. You expected to be entirely ignored. "...Later."

You sit back in the seat with your answer. Maurice seems to have said all that needed to be said to that one officer, but during a red light, he gets into contact with a new voice, a female one from the sounds of it.

"Julie? I'm bringing in the man for questioning."

"What did you find? Was there a child?" She asks, which only confirms to you that whatever tip was given to the police about you must've been about having a kid with you.

"Yes, and his admittance to having no legal or biological relation to her. Thats already obvious though, the girl is a wolf."

"How was she?"

Maurice gives a brief pause.

"...Unhurt, as far as I could tell, though we're still investigating everything and getting CPS on the scene. She seemed...attached to him, so I figured we should get all the details straight before putting in any sort of arrest." He tells her, and it provides just the smallest pang of happiness to hear him admit Sophia's love for you; a very fleeting feeling that can't exist for long surrounded by dread, but it was there for a moment. "Hey, that reminds me. That one investigator, the uh...the badger. Should we call her over?"

"Yeah, I'll contact her. I'm sure this might interest her."

Investigator? You're curious on who that might be, given she apparently isn't directly a part of the police. You'd ask if you felt in any position to do so, which was admittedly a little strange given how you had cut in just a few seconds ago to offer your laptop password.

"Any missing child reports for a young wolf girl? Gray fur?"

"Mmm..." There's a brief silence over the phone. "...No. No such report."

"Hm. Well, we'll see what turns up."

A single beep from the radio, and it was dead silence from then on all the way towards the city police station. The changing scenery from the window was a poor distraction to the pessimistic thoughts that pervaded your mind. Sophia's worried expression was still crystal clear in your head. You imagined how she must've been feeling, sitting on her bed while being watched over by a stranger after you had suddenly been taken away. As if it made any sort of difference, you mentally apologized a thousand times to her for having things end up this way.

The car ride felt agonizingly long, but eventually the police car was parked within the private lot off to the side of the police station. Despite the crushing anxiety ever present over you, you sat patiently as you waited for Officer Maurice to walk around and open a car door for you. It wasn't too long of a wait.

"Step out please." He tells you.

You follow his instructions, sliding out and getting a better look at the station. Its square body and stone walls made it look a bit unfriendly, though perhaps that was just the perspective in which you were coming here for. You were a potential wrongdoer in their eyes, putting it extremely nicely. You had to hope they wouldn't come up with any reason to escalate the ordeal.

You're led into an entrance on the side by the parking lot, and then into a rather plain hallway with metal doors and fiberglass windows. The first one on the left is opened up for you to step inside, and Officer Maurice goes in with you.

"Stand still." He says after closing the door, and he takes the handcuffs off of you.

It's nice to be free of such a restraining situation, although the small and windowless room you found yourself in only makes you feel more trapped. A featureless table is placed in the middle of the room, and there are a few foldable plastic chairs on either side. You were sure you've seen these kind of rooms in a movie or something on TV, where a suspect would be brought to and put through questioning.

"Take a seat at the other side of the table and wait there for a moment. I'll be back." He instructs. You comply.

Officer Maurice takes his leave out the door, and through the fiberglass pane, you think you saw him lock the door. You aren't certain about it, but you definitely aren't going to go over and check. You will gladly answer whatever questions they ask about Sophia and her treatment under your care, and you will show them you have no reservations in being as open a book about it as you can possibly be. Every question they ask you is an opportunity to prove to them your genuine love and care for her.

So you wait. The air in here feels slightly too cool. Unlike the changing scenery out the car window, there was nothing you could even try to distract yourself with in this small and empty room. You wait, alone, sitting still and trying to suppress the nerves that came naturally for ending up in this situation.

You're left in there for a long few minutes before the door opens, and three figures walk in: Maurice, a female human officer of similar age as him, and a somewhat short badger anthro.

"This is Officer Julie and Detective Namuka." Maurice bluntly introduces them as the door shuts behind the trio. "We're going to be asking you some questions about your involvement with the wolf girl. Everything said in here will be recorded and put on record. Is that understood?"

"Yes." You nod. "Whatever needs to be answered or clarified. Ask me anything."

As you scan around the three of them, you noticed that despite any differences between the group, they all held the prevailing commonality of stone cold stoicism and professionalism. You hoped that's just how they normally were, and not a response to what kind of person they might've assumed you were.

You knew that if there was a time to call your lawyer, now would probably be the time...but you find you can't. Your entire gambit relies on proving to them your genuine intentions. Not cooperating until your lawyer could come in and guide your words for you would seem a lot less genuine, and pointed towards you trying to weasel your way out of trouble. Your aim wasn't to avoid jail time consequences, you wanted an angle where adopting Sophia in the end was still possible, and convincing these three who'd be evaluating the case felt crucial. You needed them to understand and believe in your personal appeal. If it meant even the smallest chance you could be Sophia's legal father in the future, you'd risk a higher chance you end up in a cell.

"Alright then." Maurice said as he and Julie took a spot on the other side of the table. Namuka opted to stand off to the side with a notepad. "Start with who you are. Introduce yourself."

After a deep inhale through your nose, you do so. You give them your full name and tell them how long you've been living here. They let you speak on your own for a good while without asking for elaboration or follow up questions. You supposed the big questions would be asked when Sophia came into the picture. You were right, as after you mentioned your first meeting with her, it started to feel a whole lot more like an interrogation than an introduction of yourself.

Maurice tended to ask the broad and obvious questions; some of which you'd already told him at home, but you supposed it was more for the record and the other two. Julie's own questions weren't so different.

"Why did you take her home?"

"Why did you keep her a secret?"

"How long did you plan on keeping her with you?"

"What did you do with her?"

You answered open, honestly, and without any hesitation. It was easier to be truthful when every answer had genuine intentions. Whether or not you made the best decisions, everything you had done was for Sophia whether your motives were altruistic whim or paternal instinct as the questions progressed. Truth be told, there was something really nice about being able to talk so openly about who Sophia is to you. You wonder if it's partly how parents who love to talk endlessly about their children to strangers feel. You also wonder if you'd ever find yourself doing that, without having to being literally interrogated for it.

"What do you know about her parents?"

"Has she said anything about where she stayed before you?"

You quickly noticed Namuka's questions were different. Maurice and Julie's questions felt prodding to you, like they were hoping to dig something out of you. Namuka's...rarely included you. Instead, they were primarily about Sophia: who she was, where she came from, how she adapted to living with you, and perhaps most strikingly...

"Has Sophia shown any signs of previous abuse or neglect while she was with you?"

"A lot." You practically jumped at the chance to speak to anyone about your daughter's previous mistreatment. For a long time, you had been her only pillar of support, so you want them to understand what she's suffered through if you can't be with her right now. "Emotional, verbal, even physical from what she's told me. Whoever she was with in the past, they treated her like a burden, and it took her a long time before she wasn't scared that I'd see her the same way. They always had her sleep on the floor because 'only good kids get the beds,' and they must've called her 'annoying' a lot, because that's what she kept assuming I thought about her doing even the smallest things. Like when she was first with me, she rarely spoke unless it was a response to me."

A bit of a wordy response, but if they aren't going to interrupt you, you should take it as far as you reasonably can. Namuka certainly seems interested, her beady eyes locked into her notepad as she scribbles for as long as you can talk. The two officers taking a back seat made the room feel ever so slightly less cramped. You could've sworn their gazes weren't as sharp as they were before too.

"She wasn't used to having nice—or even decent—clothes. She didn't believe she deserved ice cream or toys... She's woken up from nightmares in tears, she cried when I let her know it was okay to hug me, and there was one moment..." That desperate frustration you saw in her was crystal clear thinking back on. "...She broke down—vented for probably the first time in her life—wondering why everyone in her life seemed to dislike her despite never knowing why."

"And she felt comfortable enough with you to tell you that?" Julie asks, the ever present undertone of skepticism and scrutiny slightly coloring her voice.

"Yes. She was trying to hide it at first because she felt like she was crying too much... But it was definitely something she was holding on to for too long."

"When this happened, did she reveal anything about the identities of her previous caretakers?" Namuka jumps back in. "Like, for instance, was there any mention of another wolf or wolves?"

"Huh?" Her question catches you a bit by surprise, sensing some hidden context for her to specify anything. "She's never mentioned any specific details about them. At that moment, the thing I learned was...that she got hit in the past."

It's hard to get those last words out without any kind of tone change, and in fact you're sure you noticeably failed. The fact that someone out there had hit your daughter bubbles up a deep anger in you. It doesn't matter she wasn't your daughter yet when it happened, it still made you furious to think about.

"I never asked her to elaborate on that since I didn't want her reliving those memories. But..." You debate whether you're own opinion matters for the record, and decide you don't care. "...they sound like truly awful people. I don't want her to end up like that again."

"I see..." The badger lady muses, tapping the end of her pen to her lip. "Tell me again about Sophia's theory you said she mentioned."

"The dad one?"

"Yes, that one."

"Oh, well... She said she might've heard them talking about her biological father, and that apparently he might've been a bad person. Sophia thought maybe her mistreatment was because everyone believed she'd turn out like him." You say. "After she mentioned that, I did a little bit of research. I found this one...manslaughter case a couple of years back by an adult wolf..."

The badger woman continues her scribbles. You wonder what exactly she might be putting together on that notepad, as if whether or not she was a part of the police department, you'd assume she'd have access to the recording considering she gets to be here asking you questions too in the first place.

The interrogation lasts a bit longer. With the sole exception of Reita's involvement, you told everything about your care for Sophia. The first time she called you 'dad,' her new birthday, and even your parents' surprise visit and how you had lied to them by letting them think Sophia had already been adopted.

"Other than your parents, did you let anyone know about her?"

"...No." You had almost hesitated for too long after that question. "Just my parents."

Throughout the entire interrogation, that was the only question you were second guessing yourself about if you answered correctly. You didn't want to get Reita involved, but now with this answer on record, you wondered if you set yourself up for trouble. It was the only lie you told. Would Reita come forward herself? Sophia could also mention her, you realize. Damn it... Whatever confidence you were holding on to took a huge hit. Of course, Reita's involvement didn't change the fact you had only treated Sophia with love and care (and even proved more of that), it's just having one instance of being untruthful on record could easily threaten the entire image you had been trying to build with your cooperation.

You were at least lucky that they seemed to be wrapping up by this point. To continue the questioning with that worry in the back of your mind could've had a noticeable effect on your mood and tone they might've found suspicious. You said no in the short window you had to answer, so you had to stick with it.

"Julie? Namuka? Either of you have anything left you want to ask?" Maurice says.

"I think that's about all we can get for now." Julie responds.

"Until we look over the evidence and other sources." Namuka concurred. "I would like to meet with the girl though, if possible."

"All right." Maurice took out his radio. "Johnny, you there?"

"...Yeah, we're still at the house." You're able to just barely hear the voice.

"CPS there?"

"Yeah. An agent came over. She's been trying to get the girl to open up, but she hasn't been very responsive."

"..." Your heart dropped again. She was no doubt terrified about all these strangers. "...I can help."

Maurice and Julie look back at you with wrinkled stares.

"What?"

"She's scared." You put bluntly. "If you give Sophia the radio for a bit, I'll let her know everything's all right, and ask her to answer the agent's questions."

"Mr. Mous, do you have any idea what kind of position you're in?" Julie states.

"Wait, Julie." Maurice cuts in, his scrutinizing glare still centered on you. "I wanna see this."

You're thankful, even if it doesn't feel like he's letting you do this for kind reasons.

"Be brief about it, and speak loud enough for us to hear you clearly. If you try whispering anything, it'll be trouble for you." He walks to the other side of the table. "Johnny?"

"Yes?"

"Ask the girl if she wants to talk to Anon. If, and only if, she says yes, put the radio out so she can hear it."

"Uh, all right. Give me a moment." The feed cuts out, and you're left to wait a long few seconds before his voice comes back on the line. "That got her attention. She said yes immediately."

"...All right, hold it out for her."

There's another brief silence, though this one was much shorter before it was broken up by a familiar voice calling out to you through the radio.

"D-Dad?!" Your daughter's voice emits from the radio.

That one word has you hit with a tidal wave of emotions you've been trying to repress since being taken away. Maurice holds out his own radio close to your face, although he doesn't give it to you to hold, only to speak into.

"Sophie..." You start, although you're too overwhelmed to continue before Sophia follows up.

"Where did they take you...?! A-Are you okay?!" Her voice is both stuttering and slightly frantic.

"Don't worry Sophe, I'm okay...! They had to ask me a few questions and clear some stuff up. I'm fine, don't worry about me." You tell her, doing your damnedest to have your tone match your words. "There's someone there asking you questions too, right?"

"M...Mm-hm..."

"It's okay to answer them. They're just trying to help you, okay?" You say, to a silent response from her. "I know it's tough, but I know you can be brave. I believe in you, Sophie. They're not going to hurt you."

"I-I... I'll...t-try."

"Thank you Sophie."

"Dad?" Her voice turns a little stronger, yet somehow more vulnerable at the same time. "Wh-When will I see you again...?"

That was the hardest question you had been asked today, and it feels like a genuine punch to the gut. You had been wondering the exact same thing.

"I don't know. I...can't really say right now." You answer truthfully. "But it's okay Sophie. It's just that there's a lot of stuff they need to figure out."

You hear a sniffle over the phone.

"Okay... L-Love you, Dad..."

"I love you too, Sophie. You're brave. There's...nothing to worry about."

"Johnny?" Maurice suddenly pulls the radio away from you, stepping around the other side of the table by the other two. "Gonna head back over in a bit. Tell the agent detective Namuka is hoping to ask some questions too."

You were thankful you got to speak to Sophia again, even if it made you feel worse by the end of it. You had rubbed your eyes instinctively before you even realized they were wet.

...What the hell is happening in your life.

"All right... We're on our way." Maurice says over the radio as he and Namuka step towards the exit. "Julie, let's keep him in a holding cell until we get the full picture."

"Thought so." She said, before turning to you. "Stand please. Come over and face away."

You nod, and when you stand up for the first time in a while, your legs feel a bit wobbly. You move over, and before you know it, you've got your wrists cuffed together behind your back again.

"...Could I ask what's going to happen?" You find yourself speaking up.

"We're going to get her story, contact people who know you, and search your house from top to bottom." Maurice answers matter-of-factly. "So if there's anything you want to say—or admit to—while you've still got the chance, now's the time."

"..." Reita pops into your head again. "...No. Nothing."

"Hmph. All right then."

With that, the door is opened, and you're finally brought out of the constricting room. Where you end up isn't much better though. While Maurice and Namuka head out in the direction you had come from, Julie leads you down the opposite hall, and drops you off in a barred cell with a large fiberglass window and a rectangular bench jutting from the wall. You're left with nothing to do but to lay on the bench and wait, staring at the featureless ceiling above.

Your emotions are in a paradox of feeling both completely empty and terrified at the same time. It wasn't a feeling you imagined was possible. It's so easy to picture Sophia in your head over the drab surroundings you found yourself in.

"Wh-When will I see you again...?"

God, you don't know. You really just don't know....

***

(To be updated)