The sun waslow in the sky as I marched through the city. I didn’t know why I was heading to the shelter. There was zero chance they had a bed. In all these months on the street, after all the countless times I’d inquired, the answer had always been no. The sun had set by the time I turned onto the shelter’s street. My thighs burned and my right calf was cramped. Ignoring the sign at the front that warned the shelter closed for bed inquiries at eight—which was the current time if the church bells were accurate—I yanked open the public entrance. Though I was intimately familiar with the building, it felt very strange after the posh sterility of The Eros Institute. The shelter’s hallway was dim, and the butter yellow hue of the dingy linoleum floor did nothing to brighten it. The walls were scratched, pockmarked, and peeling in places. I took a deep breath and kept walking. A few more feet, and I’d go through the pain yet again.
I’d say:Is there an available bed?
One of the good sisters would respond:No, I’m so sorry. I wish we could set up our extra cots, but occupancy rules are so strict.
I’d shrug, give a halfhearted smile.That’s fine. No big deal.
God, why had I even come here? It was pointless.
Still, I soldiered on. I approached the dingy sliding window where a school receptionist had once sat.
Behind it, I saw a familiar face. Round, pink cheeks. Wide eyes surrounded by deep wrinkles. If she had to turn me away, Sister Grant would give me more than one pack of crackers. Maybe a juice box too.
She slid the partition open as I approached. Her smile was the first smile I’d seen today that didn’t make me want to cower inward like a fearful turtle. Only, I didn’t have a protective shell.
“Ah, I wondered if you’d come today. You’ve asked us so many times. Though, you’ve just barely made it.” She pointed at the clock behind her. Something about her words, and her cheerful tone made a spark ignite in my chest.
“I know it’s a long shot, but a girl’s got to try.” I did my customary shrug, adjusted the briefcase, and waited for the inevitable.
“It’s serendipity, sweet child. We’re normally at capacity, as you know, especially this late in the day. But a Beta vacated last minute.” When she smiled deeply, her eyes scrunched together in a cartoonish way. It made her look innocent, a grandmother you could trust with reservation.
Yet, her claim struck me as odd. I’d never heard of someone willingly vacating the shelter, not before they’d worked through the social rehabilitation program. On a few occasions, someone’s family had claimed them, but otherwise…
“They just left?”
“They did.” Sister Grant offered no further clarification.
“Does that mean…” I hesitated, biting the side of my lip and wondering if I should press my luck. I did, because why not? I had a bed for tonight. I had money in my pocket. Lady Luck, fickle bitch that she was, seemed to be throwing me a bone. “Does that mean I might be able to apply to the long-term program?” I stuck out my chin and tilted my face a little. No matter what she said, I wouldn’t feel disappointed. So much had gone well today. I mean, a lot had been shitty. But, by the law of averages, today had been my best day in a very long time.
"Anyone who claims a vacancy is eligible," she said. My heart skippeda beat, and I had to remind myself to not get ahead of the game. Still, I lifted both hands and clung to the edge of the little reception counter. I needed support. Even if it was a slim possibility, Sister Grant was promising me a new world. As she continued speaking, I had to force myself to inhale and exhale. "Mind you there are many factors that decide a candidates’ enrollment. Financially, we can only have so many on the roster at once. But if you are accepted, we will help you find a job, arrange transportation, and eventually set you up in housing with six months’ rent sorted."
She stood slightly up from her chair, reached toward me, and patted my left hand gently. I glanced down, finding my grip so tight that my knuckles had gone white. When she sat back down, her powdery wrinkled hand no longer touching me, I dropped my hands from the counter and shook them gently to work out the tingles.
“I’d do anything to get accepted, Sister Grant.” My voice trembled.
“Oh, sweet child. You don’t have to do anything. You’ve survived so much.” Her joy faded a bit, weathering at the edges like patio furniture left out all year without care or cover. “You’re going to be okay,” she intoned quietly. “No matter what happens, it will all be God’s master plan.”
God’s master plan. That statement stuck like a dagger in my ribs. It felt sharp, cutting.
The master plan in my life, so far, had left me orphaned and destitute.
“Okay, let’s log you in properly.” Sister Grant’s voice drew my gaze to her. She was booting up an older computer, boxy and off white, and gathering papers from a nearby file cabinet.
Great, more paperwork and fine print.I thought derisively.
“There are just a few bits you need to write down, then sign the bottom. It’s very basic information.” She slid two pieces of paper onto the desktop and then handed me a blue stick pen. I filled it out quickly, continuing my habit of not caring what the paper said as long as it meant a little comfort. When I gave it back to her, her eyes roved over my chicken scratch blue additions.
“Fortune. Ah, that name always makes me think of the poor FortuneFamily who died in that horrific crash.” She tut-tuts sadly and then uses an old-fashioned stamper to ink a bright red ‘approved’ at the top of both papers. I wondered if it occurred to her that I might be part of that poor family. Maybe that was too crazy for her to consider, though. How could a young Omega of such a prestigious pack fall through the cracks like I had? Even I found it unbelievable at times. How had no one discovered I was living on the streets? I sometimes wanted to call a news station and scream‘I’m here! I’m living in a box! Why does no one recognize me now?’
“There, all sorted.” She stood up, shuffling out from the awkward, narrow gap between her desk and the crowded office storage behind. Moments later, she had joined me in the hallway. “I believe we’ll be able to accommodate you for at least a few days, which should also give the committee time to consider you for either the active program list, or the wait list.”
“Really? A few days?” I gaped, mouth hanging open now. Josie shifted in the bag, making the side of it bulge a little. I clamped a hand over it, as if I could hide the movement should the cat decide to really go buck wild. Thankfully, the good sister didn’t seem to register either.
“I’m really so glad you came today. I feel like we’ve been turning you away longer than anyone else. Most people try a few times and then give up. You really never have.” She patted my shoulder and then pushed her hand into her pocket to extract a set of keys. “Just let me lock the entrance and then we’ll head to room six. There’s a mother and two young boys there, as well as an Omega about your age. She’s very sweet.”
I fought the urge to pinch myself as we headed down the hallway moments later. We passed two other sisters going the opposite direction, who—unless it was my imagination—clustered together at the sight of me and started whispering as they walked. I caught the words‘unorthodox’,‘special request’, and‘huge donation’before their voices faded away. I honestly didn’t care what they were talking about, though their behavior was a little weird.
Sister Grant took us down a second hallway, and after a few yards we were finally standing in front of my home for the next few nights. Icouldn’t hear any activity inside. In fact, the entire hallway was quiet. I was surprised, especially since she’d said there were kids in this room.
