Young. Brazilian. Late 20s. “I know who you are,” Jadyn smiled at her, rising up from her seat, “and you can call me Jadyn.” It wasn’t every day that Savannah brought somebody in. But, even if it hadn’t been her, she tried to remember the names and faces of every single member of the LBJ. It was part of her job to keep an eye on them, to know relevant details about them – namely relevant details that might be needed in the future if someone went missing.
Motioning to the chair across from her desk, Day waited for Nadia to sit down before she did. “I apologize that I haven’t gone to see you,” she said, folding her arms on top of the table, “I’ve been meaning to, but, as you can probably tell, it’s been busy here.” Too busy. “So, what can I do for you, Nadia? Have you settled into the shelter well?” She knew how difficult it could be for certain individuals to adjust to a new surrounding, especially alone.
“I’m glad you’ve decided to stay with us despite recent events.”