The entire orphanage stood transformed under the afternoon sun, its freshly scrubbed walls gleaming as if newly built.
The windows sparkled, the wooden floors shone, and even the rusted gate had been polished to a respectable sheen. A gentle breeze carried the scent of soap and lemon through the courtyard as everyone gathered to admire their work.
Nolan surveyed the results with a critical eye, his arms crossed. "Now it at least looks like a normal building," he declared.
Shaela opened her mouth to retort—then closed it.
As much as she hated to admit it, the insufferable prick had contributed more than anyone, working with an almost obsessive precision that left even the professional cleaners impressed. It was just his personality that grated on her nerves. Couldn't he be normal? Like... like...
Him.
