“Rose, this lady is interested in the children’s program. I’m sorry, I forgot to ask your name.”
“It’s Carmela. Carmela Hernandez.”
Carmela. One of my little sisters’ names. It wasn’t that uncommon, but I hadn’t heard it spoken out loud in a while. Something must’ve shown in my face, because Carmela cocked her head.
“Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
Rose, in who I’d confided my life story, shot me a dark look. “Don’t lie to the lady. Go on. Tell her.”
“I grew up in foster care and had two younger sisters, one named Jasmine and the other Carmela. They were taken away from our foster parents when I was seventeen and they were seven and nine years old. I haven’t seen them since and have no idea where they are now.”
Carmela listened to my story without speaking. “Unfortunately that’s a very common story. I hear it all the time.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I work for ACS—Administration for Children’s Services. I’m sure you know it.”
“Oh yeah,” I said tightly. “I sure do.”
“Have you ever thought of trying to find them?” She folded up the flyer and put it in her purse. “It’s much easier now than ten years ago.”
To tell her the truth meant I’d have to trust her, but if there was any way possible…
“I couldn’t. Look for them before, I mean. I didn’t have a steady job, and I wasn’t in the right headspace. Plus, I was in jail for a while. This is my first real job since I got out, and I figured once things got settled, I could show them I was good enough.” It kind of hurt to breathe. Rose squeezed my arm. I didn’t have to do this by myself. I had a family now. A different kind, but better than some real ones.
Remaining silent, Carmela stared at me but not with judgment. More like assessing me. I looked her straight in the eye. I had nothing to hide. I’d laid it all out—the good, the bad, and the very ugly.
She opened her purse and dug out her wallet, extracting a card. “Here. This is my work number. You decide when you’re ready, and I’ll to help you. I’m not promising you’ll find them, but I know how to get to the people you need. Call me.”
I took the card, and she held my hand in hers for a moment. “We never forget where we come from. We can put on a brave face for the world, but the hurt…the pain of it…never goes away. I know.” She squeezed my hand, and with a warm smile, left the store.
Startled, I digested her words. I’d have never guessed she’d been in the system, but seeing her gave me hope I had a future that might include finding my sisters.
“You see, honey?” Rose stacked the flyers I made on the counter. “It’s all working out.”
And for the first time, I could honestly agree.
