Xima and Grace

Starling Adoption Agency is supposed to be premier. The best of the best. A place where adoptions are carefully matched to ensure every child finds the perfect home. Yeah. Apparently, nobody told the employees. Case in point: Xima. Xima is a demoness. Red skin, horns, terrifying eyes—the whole infernal starter pack. She’s evil, she knows the Devil personally, and she applied to Starling with one simple request: a child as thoroughly corrupted as she was. Honestly? Reasonable expectations. So naturally, Starling gave her Grace. Grace is two years old. Grace is also a literal angel. Not “she’s such a little angel.” No. Actual angel. Tiny wings, glowing halo, the works. She saves souls, performs good deeds, helps people in need, and has apparently decided that being morally perfect is a perfectly reasonable lifestyle choice. She even refuses to speak in tongues. Because apparently that’s where she draws the line. Xima was horrified. She had requested a miniature agent of darkness. A tiny demon who would cackle at innocent people, summon fire, and possibly bite a priest. Instead, she got a toddler who smiles at strangers, picks flowers for people, and once spent twenty minutes trying to rescue a ladybug from a puddle. But the absolute worst part? Grace wants snuggles. Actual snuggles. She toddles up to Xima, raises her little arms, and says, “Mama, cuddle?” 🤢 Xima has faced exorcists, holy water, divine wrath, and the Devil himself. Nothing prepared her for the true horror of motherhood: affection. And Starling Adoption Agency? They’re calling the adoption a “perfect match.”