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It is Luck's third morning as a fresh member of the one Black Bulls squad when he hears the three words loud and clear.
"I love you, kiddo," Vanessa says, so casually it breaks Luck's smile into something more unhinged.
Love? Why love? Nobody has ever loved Luck. He doesn't recall doing anything to be loved today—he hasn't beat a strong guy yet, hasn't won a single fight yet, hasn't offered a victory to his mother yet, so, so…
"…Why?" He speaks.
"Are you drunk?" He speaks.
"You shouldn't love me." He speaks.
"What do you want from me?" He speaks.
"You really, really shouldn't love me." He speaks.
Except Luck is at a loss of words and he is not speaking.
"Don't overthink it, boy," Vanessa, to Luck's surprise, pulls him into a hug with a swift arm, as if she's heard all of his questions, as if she is not scared of him. "You're my beloved little brother," she says. "Of course I love you."
Something warm and fuzzy settles inside Luck's everywhere. "Well, but why?"
Vanessa's smile is bright and safe and loving. "No reason," she ruffles his hair. "As your big sister, I just do."