I nod, swallowing down the knot of grief in my throat. It’s always there, sitting heavily inside me. “Me too. I miss her, but that’s not why I’m doing this. You and me, we have to look out for each other, okay? No one’s going to look out for us, so we have to be careful. No talking about not being a real brother and sister where anyone might hear us. In fact, we shouldn’t talk about it at all. If anyone finds out, you’ll be taken away from me. I don’t ever want that to happen.”
We won’t have any independence for years and years, which means we have to be smart. The only power we have in this situation is if we make everyone believe we’re a brother and sister who refuse to be separated.
“You’re so nice to me. I don’t understand why you’re so nice to me.” Her lower lip trembles and tears fill her eyes.
Lucy looks so afraid that I wonder if she’s still seeing the taillights of her mom’s car disappearing as she’s left behind. Anger burns hot in my chest—not at Lucy, never at Lucy, but at her mother. At my father. At every adult who should have protected us and didn’t.
“How could I not be? You’re the only person who understands what being us feels like.” I lean my forehead againsthers, and whisper, “I need you as much as you need me. When I saw you sitting between those cars all by yourself, I thought, there’s a girl who needs a big brother. I was right, wasn’t I?”
Lucy was too proud at first to tell me that she’d been abandoned, and she doesn’t want to admit, even now, how desperately afraid she was. She tries to hold the truth in, but she can’t. The tears fall down her cheeks, and she sobs, “Yes, I need you.”
I wrap her in my arms, rock her back and forth while she cries, and press kisses to the top of her head. Being able to comfort Lucy soothes some of the pain in my heart. Some of the guilt over Lily. I couldn’t save my sister, but I can save Lucy. I can give her the protection and love she deserves.
I take her face in my hands and stare into her tear-filled eyes. She shouldn’t be so desolate at just ten years old. I want to put some light back into her heart.
“I can’t be Lily’s brother anymore, but I can be yours. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Lucy. We’re going to stay together, and things are going to get better for us. I swear it.”
“If she doesn’t learnto smile, no one’s ever going to want her. So skinny she’s all bones, and that miserable face? Ugh, I can’t stand to look at her.”
Two of the facility workers are discussing Lucy, who’s sitting at a table drawing with pencils, thankfully too far away to hear what’s being said about her.
White-hot rage floods through me. I want to shout at the women for talking about Lucy like that. I want to hurt them. But I can’t, because we need to get out of Milbray, and if they start thinking I’m trouble, that will be bad news for me and Lucy.
That’s what I’ve heard them say to prospective adoptive and foster parents about some of these kids.Don’t take him. That kid’s trouble.And those kids are stuck here. Some of them have been here for months. The worst ones, like the boy who hurt Lucy, have been here for years. Locked up and forgotten like animals at the pound.
Lucy’s been abandoned too many times, and it’s killing her to be in here, reminding her every day that she’s not wanted.
As I pass the women, I smile at them and cheerfully wish them a good day, being my most charming self. I’ve been told I have a lovely smile. In the last six months, the number of grown women who have told me whata handsome little manI am and touched my curls has gone up exponentially. I detest it. I loathe strangers touching me, but if my looks and my smile help me and Lucy get out of here, then I’ll use them as much as I have to.
They smile fondly at me. “And you, Damiano.”
My smile drops as soon as I’m out of their sight. I hate them. Hate them.Hate them.The rage simmers under my skin. Sometimes I imagine what I’d do if I didn’t have to smile and be good. Sometimes I imagine making them hurt the way they’ve hurt Lucy, but I push those thoughts down, because I can’t afford to be that person until Lucy is safe.
All Lucy and I need is a couple who are not on drugs, not neglectful, not cruel, who want to foster or adopt a brother and sister who love each other very much. I swear under my breath to any deity who might be listening that I’ll work so hard for my new family. I’ll obey them and respect them, as long as they respect and love Lucy. She needs love so goddamn much.
I don’t have to wait long. A week later, opportunity knocks.
I’m called into Mr. Lane’s office, Milbray’s director, and the other kids stare at me because everyone knows what that means. Prospective parents. Some kids look envious, others bitter, but most pretend they don’t care.
Excitement flutters in my stomach as I hurry down the corridor. I expect to see Lucy already in the room, but there’s no sight of her as I approach. Mr. Lane’s voice reaches my ears, and I linger in the doorway to listen.
“…a well-mannered, respectful, and clever boy, not been here for very long, and keen to be adopted by a kind and loving couple such as yourself.” Mr. Lane catches sight of me and waves me in. “Ah! And here he is. Come in and sit down, Damiano. Meet Mr. and Mrs. Barone.”
There’s a couple sitting in chairs in front of his desk, and they both look around and smile at me. The man looks like he’s in his early fifties, and the woman is a little younger, in her forties. Both of them have dark hair and dark eyes, though Mr. Barone is going gray at the temples. I don’t know much about clothes and jewelry, but these two have the whiff of wealth about them. Mr. Barone’s suit fits him like a glove, and there’s a heavy gold watch on his wrist and a gold ring on his pinkie finger. Mrs. Barone is immaculate in a blouse and long skirt made in a lustrous fabric that rustles softly as she moves. Her nails are wine red and manicured into points. She wears gold jewelry, and a lot of it. Rings sparkle on her fingers. The handbag she holds in her lap has a gold logo that I’ve seen on billboards, clutched by supermodels.
Mr. and Mrs. Barone will be able to give Lucy everything she’s dreamed of and more. A bed with one of those canopies that princesses have. A pony. A bookshelf full of new books to read. Persian kittens. Pretty dresses.
Quiet gardens. Warm sunshine. Peace.
I didn’t think to hope for a family who is kindandwealthy to adopt us, but it seems the universe sent us one anyway.
I sense something else about them that makes the nape of my neck prickle and my heart beat faster.
Power.
And power means better security for Lucy.
I smile and shake the couple’s hands, introduce myself, and sit in the empty seat next to them. My palms feel sweaty, but I make myself stay calm, for Lucy’s sake.
