Chapter 11. Making Friends

Abigail’s POV

Finally, I turned and faced a thin, ill-looking woman who looked like she had not eaten a proper meal in months. With a shrug, the stranger nodded to the door opposite, letting me know that she lived there, and held her hand out for me to shake, which after a moment I did, although inwardly saying a prayer of thanks that I could not get mortal bugs.

“Hi, I’m Abigail; I just moved in; this is Damien,” I said, nodding to a rather pissed-off-looking Damien.

The neighbour’s loud scoff filled the room, her dull voice declaring that she would never remember my name. With a shrug of my tiny shoulders, saying nothing, I smiled, seeing a little pair of cute chubby fingers on the side of the mother’s jeans. A child! I loved children, although I never wanted any of my own. The prospect of bringing a child into this world, to expect them to live with the issues and struggles I had, too, was out of the question. Nevertheless, I truly adored children finding