Romeo's POV
His little arm had a bruise, and he cried when I grabbed him like he thought I was about to hurt him. “Shh, shh. What’s your name?” I asked him, yet he eyed Anastasia, clearly petrified of the woman. He was all skin and bone, his big brown eyes had no light, his cheeks hollow and his eyes sunken in, his curly black hair sat on his shoulders and was matted and knotted.
“He doesn’t talk,” little Julian says, coming back out in her dirty pajamas. She would be about nine and one of the oldest ones here, which I thought was strange, however seeing a rogue child was more bizarre, and l had a feeling it was just for show in case the King stopped by, but one thing was apparent none of these children were cared for properly, and that really ground my gears.
“Like he can’t, or he does
