Edmund slammed the door behind the strange boy as he left, not taking his eyes off of his sister.  She sighed and fell back on his bed, but Edmund did not pity her.

"What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.  "Who was that?!"

"Don't use that kind of language with me," Mable mumbled to the ceiling.  Edmund fumed.

He stormed further into the hotel room, standing over his sister where he lay and glaring down at her.  She avoided his eyes for a very admirable seven seconds before guilt overtook her.

"He was just my friend," she whined, "he wanted to see the room, so -"

"So you brought him inside?"  Edmund was incredulous.  "Mable, you cannot do that!"

"Why?"  The girl sat up and whipped around to face her brother, frowning defiantly at him.  "My friend Anne showed me to her house, and it was very nice and I had lots of fun!  You didn't mind when I told you about that!  Why's it a problem now?"

"Because that was a boy!"  Mable flinches back from the volume of his voice, and he feels bad about it for a second.  Until she looks back at him and shouts back, just as loud.

"So what!  He was very nice to me, what does it matter if he's a boy?"

Edmund wanted to rip his hair out.  How was it that Mable was so smart and amazing and dazzling, and yet, so...

"Mable, boys are dangerous," he says, voice very serious.  "You cannot just take a boy you just met to your room, alone, with the door closed.  It's not proper!"

Hadn't she been taught that?  If not by her tutor in the states, then by her own brother?  Surely, surely that was something she knew?

"You're a boy," Mable pointed out, her voice dripping with attitude.  "Are you dangerous?"

Yes, he wanted to say, but I try every day to be better than that.  You don't know the half of it.

"I'm a boy, but I'm also your brother.  It's my job to protect you from other boys.  That's why I'm very worried about you right now, Mable, do you get it?"

The girl did not stop frowning, but she was quiet, and Edmund took that as a good sign.

Raising his sister had never not been exhausting.  He couldn't believe he'd been doing it for eleven years now.  That was his whole lifetime, not to mention hers.

With a sigh, Edmund sat on the bed, one leg up to face Mable properly.  She shifted to do the same, still pouting.

"I know you want to make friend with everyone, and most of the time, that's okay.  It's a very good thing about you, even, but you also need to be careful.  Some people are going to take advantage of that, Mable, boys especially.  So please, please be more careful, okay?"

"What about Father Brennan?" she answered with a question.  "He's a boy.  Is he going to take advantage of me?"

It was Edmund's turn to be quiet as he thought about that.  "Father Brennan... yes, he's a boy, but he's also a priest.  It's his job, too, to protect you.  To protect everyone.

"But that doesn't mean he's always right," he continued.  "I know you like hanging out with him during the day when I'm not around, and that's fine, but if something feels wrong to you, trust your gut.  Okay?"

Mable nodded, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap.  "Okay..." she agreed, "but what if my gut tells me that, Edward is a very nice boy and that I can trust him?"

Was it Edmund that had taught her to be this way?

"In that case," he said, crossing his arms, "you can trust him all you want, outside of our room and where other people can see you, and get help quickly if you need it."

Mable sighed, and then sighed again even louder.  Her brother shook his head, but he was smiling, however small.

"I'm glad you understand," he said, getting up from the bed and pressing a kiss to the crown of Mable's head.  Even if it was hard, seemingly impossible, Edmund would always try his hardest with Mable, and it would always pay off.