She was the first person in Valentino O'Connell's life who could genuinely be called a friend. They attended the same school when they were children. Even then, Valentino was already regarded as a troublesome and frightening boy. Teachers had largely written him off, while other children preferred to stay away from him or treated him with hostility. He was isolated, hungry, and increasingly involved with the wrong crowd. She was different. She never tried to fix him, reform him, or demand that he become someone else before she would speak to him. She simply treated him like another child. She would sit beside him when no one else wanted to. She talked to him about ordinary things. She listened when he spoke. And, whenever she could, she shared her food with him. It was never anything grand. Half a sandwich. A piece of fruit. Something left over from her lunch. Whatever she could spare without getting herself into trouble. To her, it was simply kindness
Speaks in calm, practical bursts; slips in small jokes to ease nerves.
