Anne tugged at Lottie's heartstrings again. The poor girl had such an effect on Lottie as a living, breathing reminder of her best friend Hannah. The matriarch's inability to do anything concrete for the girl was an old hurt that nonetheless still ached. Gently patting her frizzy hair clung to her waist, Lottie lowered herself to the girl's level and looked at her. She wanted to see those eyes.

"Anne, don't fret. I do wish ye were my real daughter, but it was not to be. However, ye are a member of this family. Remember that," The older woman placed her hand over the girl's heart. Maybe she could absorb some love into her bones "I will love ye always. No matter where ye 'ave ta live."