“I think you just might be right,” she said, looking over at the stacks of files on her desk, “I’m stuck in some weird masochistic loop, but it’s not that bad.” It helped keep her mind off of things. It also helped lessen Savannah’s workload, giving her a little more time to herself. Grief was never easy to overcome. Jadyn wasn’t proud to admit it, but she was used to loss. Loss had been a significant part of her life since her childhood. She at least knew how to manage it by now. Maybe not in the best way, but workaholism was a lesser evil than what she could be turning to. “I know what we can do to fix this,” she looked back at her with a teasing smile, “You could take over for me. I bet you’re real good at writing papers.”
Jadyn had been what one would call a trouble child when she was young. She had lost both of her parents in a single day after spending the better part of her youth in an unstable household. She was grateful to the Morrisons for adopting her and she tried not to give them too much problems, but it was a different story at school. News spread. Kids talked. She couldn’t escape her past, so she retaliated in the only way she knew how. She used her fist. Even though the army taught her self-control, she never did really stop using her fist to solve certain issues.
“There are definitely tons more important matters than a black mark on your school record now,” she concurred, slipping one of her legs under her on the sofa, “like hiding away a stash of treats in your room or figuring out the best time of day to take a shower so you don’t have to wait in line.”