Chapter One
Blake
Eight years old
I looked up at the house. White paint. It had a green door. I liked that.
“Okay.” Mr. Nathan was sitting beside me. We’d come in his car, and he had some stuff on his lap. He was looking through some papers while he was huffing and muttering under his breath. I learned long ago that was just what Mr. Nathan did. He was in charge of me. He brought me to these homes, left me, and would come back later to ask how everything was going. I learned after the first home it was better if I always told him everything was fine.
I was fine.
He would ask. That would be my response, except some of the times, I wished I could ask if he could sneak me food. Sometimes there were no places to hide the food, but I was good at finding places. It was just making sure you hid your treats in there when no one was watching, and also getting them out. You had to be real sneaky.
But I hadn’t asked Mr. Nathan for the extra treats, just so my tummy didn’t growl. It bothered my last foster brother, and he’d punch me to make it stop.
I didn’t want to make him angry, but I couldn’t help my tummy. Punching me never stopped my tummy, so my foster brother would be angry all day long. That would make his real mom in a bad mood too. She didn’t like when her real son was angry.
It was my fault.
The last time Mr. Nathan came to see how I was doing, I didn’t need to say anything. He looked at me and started shaking without saying anything. I started to get worried I’d done something to make him mad, but he gave me a small smile and said we were going for treats.
Treats! I was a sucker for treats.
“You go and get your bag packed, Blake. Okay?”
My face hurt from when my foster mom had gotten angry at me, but I couldn’t hold the smile back. I kept my face tucked down so my foster mom or brother wouldn’t get mad at me again. Though, in my defense, I knew that they were just angry people. They wanted to hurt others, and I was the one in front of them. They were those kind of people.
I got to the stairs when Mr. Nathan called my name again.
I froze, scared he had changed his mind. I looked over my shoulder, and he was giving me another one of those nice smiles of his. I liked when he gave me that look. It meant everything was fine. That I hadn’t messed up.
He gave me a small nod. “Pack all of your items.”
My eyebrows shot up.
Did that mean . . . ?
A new sense of excitement rushed through me. Oh boy, oh boy. We were going for treats, and he wasn’t bringing me back. That meant I’d get so much food that my tummy would hurt, but I liked when it was that hurt. Too much food was never a problem for me.
I didn’t look at my foster mom and brother, though I could feel how angry they were.
That was how we were here now, in this driveway.
“What do you think, Blake? You think you might like living here?”
I looked at him. He was always so tired. He was a nice man, but he needed to learn how to comb his hair. Maybe I could give him one of my combs. I tended to get a new one each year for Christmas from the Salvation Army. I really only needed one, so yeah. I’d give Mr. Nathan one as his Christmas present from me.
We hadn’t even gotten to Halloween yet, but that meant it was three holidays away.
I nodded to Mr. Nathan. “I like the door.”
He paused before lifting his head. His eyes widened, and his mouth curved up in a smile, a real smile. “Oh. Yes. Well, look at that. Maybe they knew you were coming? A green door for a Miss Little Blake Green?” His eyes were twinkling now.
I giggled, but more because Mr. Nathan seemed actually happy. It wouldn’t last, but I still liked it when it happened. “You’re teasing me.”
He chuckled. “I am. You’re such a smart little girl.” He relaxed back in his seat, and I swear his smile got a little bit bigger and his eyes shone a bit happier. That made me happier. “This is a good home, Blake. Miss Marcie is a good woman. Now, there’s going to be a lot of other kids in there. So if you’re uncomfortable with anyone or scared, I want you to tell me.”
Some of my smile slipped.
