"Cain! I'm home early!"
Cain and I leaped to our feet, Martin dumped unceremoniously off of my lap in the process. He meowed in protest, stalking off haughtily. I was out in the open, my wings exposed, and Cain's mother was about to walk into the living room. My attempts to fold them against my back were halfhearted and feeble. It was too late.
The woman had blonde hair and blue eyes, square glasses perched on the end of her nose. I was reminded of a librarian.
Her mouth fell open, purse falling from her hand to the floor with a thud.
"Cain?" Her voice was hoarse. It was as if she had swallowed the contents of an hourglass.
"She was hurt. What was I supposed to do? Leave her outside to die?" Cain managed to ask. Such a brave soul, that one.
I said nothing. My eyes flicked back and forth between mother and son, waiting for her verdict.
"What the hell is it?"
I was half tempted to retort back with, "No, what in heaven is it, is what you meant to say, is it not?" But I held my tongue, biting my bottom lip. One of my wings twitched involuntarily because every muscle in my body was tense and anxious.
"I am a Guardian," I blurted out, breaking the awful silence, "I come from a place called Nevaeh. You call us angels,"
I must've looked quite pathetic, standing there with my wings bloodied and broken, tattered remains of bandages hanging from them. I had unwrapped them slightly because they had almost healed, despite my encounter with the human devils who had 'raped' me as Cain put it. Stray feathers drifted to the floor as we spoke, gleaming blue in the sunlight which spilled from the window.
Mrs. Davis stared at me as though I would disappear in a flurry of wings and feathers at any moment. Her eyes roved over my entire body, taking in my injured wings and blue hair.
"She can stay until she can fly or whatever. Then she goes," Cain's mother announced, turning to leave the living room.
"I appreciate your kindness Mrs. Davis!" I called after her. She froze.
Her back stiffened.
I had obviously said the wrong thing. She looked over her shoulder, back at Cain and I.
"Obviously Cain has chosen to lie to yet another of his friends. I am not his mother. I am his foster mother."
What is a 'foster mother'?