Chapter 4

"Are you an idiot? They're hitting you, why aren't you fighting back?"

I held the antiseptic and cotton swabs I'd secretly taken from home, clumsily cleaning the boy's wounds.

That was the first time I met Liam.

I was only 8 years old then.

He wore a faded gray t-shirt, his head bowed.

The wounds were deep, but he didn't make a sound.

The neighborhood kids said he was from the orphanage next door.

Every Wednesday was an 'outing day' for the orphanage kids, a day off from the director to explore outside.

"That dummy, he always waits for his mom here. They say he was abandoned right on this spot."

Leo, from next door, told me.

Boys are born mischievous, and they're quick to pick on the weak.

Every Wednesday, the kids around the neighborhood would instinctively come to find a sense of superiority over him.

"Idiot! Your parents don't want you, and you're still waiting."

"This is *my* turf. If you want to hang around, you'll have to grovel for it, loser!"

...

He remained motionless, as if automatically blocking them out.

Punches and kicks rained down on him.

He just hugged his head, silently enduring.

I was different. Even though I was a girl, no kid ever dared to bully me.

I couldn't help it; I had a sister with a heart condition.

My job was to protect her.

Now, my circle of protection included Liam.

I chased away the boys around him, and every Wednesday, I waited with him.

Finally, one day, he spoke to me.

"Liam." He wrote his name with a stick, utterly serious.

"Thank you for protecting me, Skylar."

I looked at him in surprise. I hadn't told him my name.

"I heard them call you that. I'm a boy. From now on, I'll protect you."