Friendship
“My gratitude to you for your care of my child, miss.”
The voice, still rather wet and croaky, reverberates in the chest against which I am still pressed. Nalla – no, no, not my mother, just… someone who birthed me, maybe – stands up and bows deep, while gathering me even closer to… his?… chest.
“My pleasure,” I hear Emilia smilingly say. “Actually, though, it’s my daughter Atlanta who took care of her the most. I arrived home just quite recently, while she’s been with Ata since a few days ago.”
`She?` I squawk privately. `What–?!`
But my concentration is all too soon drawn away from my utterly warranted indignation, as Nalla asks Emilia to name the price that… he?… needs to pay for my upkeep.
She demurs. “I’m sure Ata took care of her without a wish to be repaid. I was the same, though I admit I was hoping we’d somehow meet you here. Now that we meet again, it’s…. Well, I hope we can be friends. Ata considers your kid her little sister.”
“Friendship.” Nalla sounds odd, as if it is also an alien concept to him.
Damn. I do not want to be any similar to him!