If they were being honest, something that Shelby women rarely weren't, they had no idea why Charlotte refused to look at her brothers. Understandably, the young girl had been nervous to meet her brothers—she hadn't seen them since she was two, how could she not be a little nervous—but it seemed as though she had completely shut down. Finn, on the other hand, was talking excitedly to John, pulling excitedly on his hand as he tried to ask questions about the war and what it was like; John, in response, gave his youngest brother rather short answers as he shot Ada and Pol questioning glances while Tommy and Arthur stood rather stoically, staring at their baby sister with an unreadable expression.

Pol wondered what they were thinking—more specifically, what Tommy was thinking. He had always been a quite boy who kept his true thoughts to himself while Arthur slowly let his emotions bleed through his eyes. She watched the two men carefully, trying to grasp how they were handling the situation, but she found that she couldn't read them anymore. War had changed them and made them into soldiers, and soldiers weren't supposed to be understood.

"Come on, Lottie," Ada tried to coax the younger girl, her voice soft, "Don't you want to say hi to your brothers?"

Charlotte only shook her head, burying her head further into her sister's shoulder, her long hair shaking with the movement, and Ada let out a small huff of exasperation.

"Lottie, they've missed you a lot… don't you think you're hurting their feelings?" Ada pressed, slowly trying to put the small girl onto the ground. Charlotte resisted, tightening her grip on her sister and winding her legs so that no matter how hard she tried, Ada wouldn't be able to put her down.

"I don't want to," Charlotte finally muttered, and Ada glanced at her brothers with pursed lips. Charlotte hadn't been… quite with her confession and Ada only hoped that the little girl's words hadn't hurt her older brothers.

It was hard for Charlotte, Ada knew that—especially with her previous confession. The youngest Shelby was worried that her older brothers wouldn't like her, an idea that Ada found completely and utterly ridiculous, but it was then that it occurred to Ada that, well, Charlotte truly didn't know her brothers. Unlike Finn, who had known them for three more years than Charlotte and had gotten to know their personalities, Charlotte only had blurry memories of people she barely recognized.

"Okay," Ada caved, biting her lower lip as her mind raced with ideas of how to get her little sister to warm up to them, "What if I introduce you to them? Would that work?"

She felt it before she saw it, and Ada inwardly cheered herself for getting Charlotte to look at her. The little girl had a suspicious expression plastered on her face, but Ada could see the small amount of trust behind the caution. Shooting her brothers a warning glance—she could feel them craning their necks to get a glance at their sister—Ada gently began to lower Charlotte to the ground, staying crouched with her when the Charlotte unraveled her legs and placed her Mary Jane's on the ground, standing herself but keeping her head down and her body turned towards Ada, as Ada looked at Tommy, Arthur, and John.

"Who do you want to meet first?" Ada asked, watching as Charlotte's ice blue eyes flicker from the ground to her brothers shoes. Charlotte shrugged, fidgeting with her fingers, and Ada let her think for a moment.

Three brothers, three different personalities, three strangers.

"Can we start with the oldest?" Charlotte's voice was soft and held a purity in it that her brothers had not heard since before the war. It was like soft song of birds, the soft tune of a flute, gentle bells in the wind.

"Of course," Ada nodded, "But you have to look at them when I introduce them, okay?"

Charlotte nodded and turned her body, peering up at the tall men through a curtain of her light, brown hair. Her palms were sweating and her heart was racing, but she stilled herself. Ada had always told her that Shelby's were strong and she was a Shelby—she would be strong. Taking a deep breath, trying to be as quite as possible, she straightened her shoulders, scrunched her nose, and tilted her face up.

Blinking at them, she tilted her head. They were all so different than what she imagined. Even though she had no idea which one was which, she could clearly see the similarity between them. They were all rather tall and two looked rather angry. The one who had poked her, the one who sounded so cold, was giving her a smile and she cautiously sized him up.

"That one's Arthur," Ada began, her finger pointing to the tallest one who had a mustache. His brown eyes contrasted with his facial expression, Charlotte noted, for they seemed to sparkle with joy while his face was set with anger. His hair was a mix between red—she quickly remembered that Ada called it auburn—and brown, "He's named after Father."

"Then there's Tommy." Charlotte followed Ada's finger to where it rested on a slightly shorter man who stood next to Arthur. Arthur and the other one, she noted, seemed to stand behind Tommy, as if he were leading them somewhere. His eyes were colder than Arthur's and his hair was an inky black. He seemed to be the coldest one of them all, "He's the one who sent you the photos of them."

The photos, Charlotte remembered, had been a surprise in their letters. It had been a rather odd afternoon in which Ada had spent time showing Charlotte her older brothers. From what Charlotte could remember, Ada's voice had been quite thick and she kept sniffling. The photos had been placed on the mantle above the fireplace and, while she recognized the men from the photos, she could never seem to remember which one was which. There was no difference to her, they were just photos of people she had once known but never remembered.

"And this one's John," Ada finished, pointing to the one that had poked her, "He may seem like an idiot, but he has moments where he's smart."

Ignoring John's bark of 'hey', Charlotte observed him; noting how his eyes seemed to be filled with mischief and how they reminded her of Finn's. His hair was a softer color and seemed to be the closest to hers. He was also the shortest.

"Arthur, Tommy, and John?" Charlotte repeated, pointing to each brother as she said their name before looking back at Ada to make sure that she had gotten them correct.

"Yeah," She smiled at Ada's praise, a soft blush covering her cheeks, "Those are your brothers."

I know I've been gone and I know that this is short but, I've been thinking of maybe focusing more on the past and slowly building up to the future? Like, have a lull of the past between each chapter. Sorry if this is iffy, I'm trying to get a feel for Charlotte again... I missed her, lol. She's one of my favs.

Thank you for your reviews during my writing drought. A break is coming up so I may be able to get a longer chapter in!

Ana