Ophelia clenched her jaw.
She didn't like kids.
Not because they weren't cute, but because of how they inconvenienced everyone.
Just like this one who had probably spent the past three hours digging in the sand and now had his dirty hands wrapped around her.
As she shivered in disgust, she looked down at his fingers and was slightly taken aback by how clean they were.
This one was clean? Since when did kids this age become so clean?
"Auntie doesn't have a name?"
She was pulled back to the present when he spoke again, tilting his head to the side as he peered isn't her face.
Swallowing, she tried to shake him off, but his grip around her only tightened.
"Hey, did you mistake me for someone? I only have one brother, and he doesn't have a child."
Finneas bit down on his lower lip, lifting his hand to point toward a corner.
She followed his gesture, her eyes landing on a group of four boys who seemed to be around seven years old.
