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She could sense the fear and anxiety of babies and younger children upon meeting her for the first time; their wide eyed stares, fidgeting, and outright tantrums. Blaring like little homing beacons, they knew that Mallory wore a disguise to cover her wounds, and that they probably weren’t safe. They were so very innocent and unblemished from the world, and saw straight through to her heart. It was the real reason she preferred not to be in their company or head a classroom full of tiny ones, though she often told those who questioned her preference for teaching teenagers that she didn’t like small children. Children hated pain. It was rare that they wouldn’t shy away from an adult whose heart was laden with it.
