My Sister Stole My Mate And I Let Her (Seraphina) novel Chapter 250

Chapter 250: Chapter 250 THE TALISMAN

SERAPHINA’S POV

Ava didn’t resist when I asked her to lead the way.

I followed behind her as she walked, quick and small and silent, her shoulders hunched like she was bracing to be struck from behind at any moment.

Moonlight Alley grew narrower the farther we went. The lanterns thinned. The shops disappeared. Cracks split the pavement in jagged lines, and the buildings sagged under the weight of years and neglect. The scent of damp stone and stale air clung to everything.

Ava stopped in front of a crooked wooden door beneath a rusted staircase.

“This is it,” she muttered.

When she pushed open the door, a wave of sour, sickly air drifted out—sweat, herbal poultices, and the unmistakable scent of fever. A frail cough rasped from inside.

Ava’s chin quivered before she masked it with defiance and stepped in. “Grandma? I...I brought someone.”

I don’t think her grandmother cared—or even heard what she’d said.

The old woman lay on a lumpy mattress on the floor of an otherwise empty room, damp gray hair plastered to her sweaty forehead, breaths shallow and uneven.

Ava knelt beside her, smoothing the thin blankets with small, shaking hands. “She gets worse at night,” she whispered, voice cracking at the edges. “Sometimes she can’t breathe right.”

My stomach twisted.

This wasn’t just a mild illness. It was dangerous. And this young child was carrying the burden alone.

I pulled out my phone. “We’re calling a doctor.”

Ava’s head snapped up, alarm flashing in her eyes. “We can’t afford one.”

“I can.”

She stared at me like I’d announced the moon was moving into her kitchen. “Why? You don’t even know us.”

“The world would be a pretty awful place if people only helped those they knew."

Before she could argue, Maxwell picked up on the second ring.

“Maxwell, I need your help,” I said without preamble.

“Sera?” His voice sharpened at the strain in mine. “What happened?”

“There’s a girl—Ava—and her grandmother is seriously ill. She needs medical attention immediately. They live in Moonlight Alley.”

A soft curse slipped down the line. “Moonlight Alley? What are you doing there?”

“That’s not important, Maxwell. Can you help me or not?”

He sighed. “Send me your location. I can’t come myself, but I’ll get a doctor there in fifteen minutes.”

I sagged with relief. “Thank you.”

True to his word, fifteen minutes later, a physician arrived with two apprentices.

There didn’t need to be much by way of an exchange—their assignment here was clear.

Ava hovered anxiously, clutching her grandmother’s hand as the doctor examined her.

The diagnosis was quick and grim: severe pneumonia compounded by malnutrition and exhaustion.

But treatable.

They gave her injections, started her on fluids, and moved her to a small medical lodging Maxwell had arranged. It was clean, bright, and warm—a place where she could heal.

Ava watched every step with wide, trembling eyes.

When the doctor said her grandmother would recover with proper care, Ava slumped, as if a string that had been pulled too tight for too long had finally snapped.

She wiped her eyes quickly with the heel of her palm, pretending she wasn’t crying. “Thank you,” she mumbled.

“You don’t have to thank—”

“No,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “I do.”

She reached into her pocket, pulled out a scrap of paper and a stub of pencil, scribbled something quickly, then shoved it toward me.

“Grandma’s number,” she said. “So we can keep in touch, and I can pay you back.”

I blinked at the grown-up child before me. “Ava—”

"I’ll pay you back." She pressed the paper into my hand, stubborn. "Just...give me time. Once I have money—”

“Stolen money?” I teased gently.

Her cheeks flushed. Her gaze darted away. "I don’t like to steal. I just..." She kicked at a loose tile with the toe of her shoe. "I’ve never been to school. I don’t have any skills. No one ever taught me how to earn money the right way."

“Something inside me softened.

I bent slightly. “Question. Did you make those traps yourself?”

“You mean the ones you ninja’d your way out of?”

I couldn’t help but smile. "The very same."

She shrugged. “Yeah.”

“Then I think I can argue that you do have skills. Brilliant ones.”

I reached out and ruffled her hair. She flinched at first, and I thought she might pull away. But then she leaned into my hand, just a little.

“And if you ever want to learn anything else,” I said softly. “I’ll help you. I’ll call your grandma’s number so you can have mine and you can reach out anytime. I’ll make sure you get schooling, training...whatever you need.”

Her head lifted. Her eyes were a mixture of suspicion and something heart-wrenching.

“Why?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You paid the doctor a lot of money to take care of my grandma, and to keep checking up on her, and now this. Why are you being nice to me?” she demanded, voice shaking. “Do you want something? Do you expect me to work for you later?” She stumbled a step back, panic flaring in her eyes. “I-I’m not gonna be anyone’s slave.”

It was one thing to hear the teenage Omega in the alley say similar words, but hearing it from someone so little, someone whose innocence had been snatched away by life’s cruel hand—it stabbed something deep in me.

I crouched down to look her in the eye. "Ava, no. I don’t want anything." I gently put my hands on her thin shoulders. "I’m helping you because it’s the right thing to do. And you remind me a little of myself."

She scowled. “I’m not rich or pretty or tall or—”

“Not like that,” I said, smiling despite everything. “I might not have had to steal on the streets to survive, but I know what it’s like to feel alone in the world. To be overlooked. Dismissed. Told what you’re not instead of what you could be.”

Ava’s lip wobbled.

“And,” I added softly, “because I’m a mother. I can’t walk away from a child who’s suffering.”

Silence stretched.

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