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So, I let myself drift away to the memory.

Glowing flames sway back and forth, casting their dancing shadows over the floor at my feet. The fire crackles, embers flickering like tiny stars. I sit with my legs crossed, gazing into the open fireplace. There’s a soft creak from the rocking chair where my dad sits. His arms are wrapped around the pretty lady with dark hair.

Rain lulls against the closed windows, pattering in rhythm with the whispering flames. It’s like a thousand little feet tiptoeing across the shingles.

Dad calls for me to join them, and I climb onto his lap, curling into both of them. It’s nice being cuddled up together, blanketed like a cozy cocoon. Her fingers comb through my hair, and I close my eyes, starting to feel sleepy.

“My boys,” she coos under her breath, like she’s sleepy too. Dad rocks us in the chair while she starts to sing. It’s a gentle song, one I’ve never heard before. It makes me think of a lullaby a mom might sing to her kids before bedtime. I don’t know many lullabies. I’ve never had a mom. I like this song though. It makes me feel safe and warm inside, like the rainbow she’s singing about.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

SUMNER

-Then-

Miss Amanda grabs my hand, leading me along the cracked sidewalk. She let me have my window down for the whole car ride, even though the people I lived with before said I wasn’t allowed to.

We drove for a long time. None of the houses look familiar to me. I didn’t even recognize any of the parks we passed. I really wanted to stop so I could play just like the other kids, except Miss Amanda told me we didn’t have time, but maybe if I was good, I could go another day with the new family I was going to stay with.

I didn’t like that I had to have a new family again.

The house in front of us doesn’t look like the last one I lived in. It’s small and dirty. There aren’t even any flowers in the flower box, just dirt.

There’s a tire swing hanging from the big tree in the front yard. I tug on Miss Amanda’s hand, wanting her to see it.

“Not now, dear,” she says, leading me up the porch steps. They creak like old branches under our feet. “It’s time to meet your new foster dad. Remember to be on your best behavior.”

A man with a big belly answers the door. His hair is combed to the side, and his white shirt is wrinkly. He smells like cigarette smoke, just like the girl who babysat us when Auntie Carol and Uncle Wiley went out. They weren’t my real aunt and uncle, but they didn’t like it when we only called them by their names, and I never wanted to call them mommy or daddy because they weren’t that either.

I step behind Miss Amanda when the man smiles at me.

I don’t like having to live with strangers. I just want my real mommy to come home.

“Sumner, this is Mr. Ambrose.”

I stare up at the hand he holds out to me. It’s huge.

“She’s a bit shy,” Miss Amanda says, pulling me around her so I’m facing him. “Why don’t you put your stuff in your room so you can settle in. I’m going to be right out here talking with Mr. Ambrose.”

At my last home, I had to share a room with two other girls. This room only has one bed. It’s just for me. I don’t even have to share the dresser.

When all my clothes are unpacked, I step out of the room, ready to make my way to Miss Amanda when I see the back door is cracked open. The yard isn’t very nice, but there’s a sandbox with tons of toys, even a bucket for making sandcastles.

“We’re not supposed to go outside by ourselves,” someone says behind me. I turn around, seeing a boy in clothes that look too big for him. He has a red tractor in his hand. It’s missing one of the wheels. “I’m Luca. What’s your name?”

I don’t answer him, just turn back to the sandbox. Miss Amanda doesn’t care if I play.

The sand is cold. It squishes between my toes when I take my shoes off. The boy comes to play too. He’s taller than me, but I think we’re close to the same age, because he’s missing teeth, just like me. His eyes are blue like Miss Amanda’s, and his hair is the same color as the sandbox. Maybe it’s because he gets to play in it so much.

“Do you like army men?” he asks, handing me one. I don’t take it. Army men toys are for boys. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

“What the hell are you two doing out here?” a scary voice calls. Luca and I both turn to the sound, seeing the man from earlier. He has a mad face, like we’re being bad, but we’re just playing.

“S-sorry, sir.” Luca drops the army man. “It was my fault. I wanted to show her my toys.”

“That so?” Mr. Ambrose looks between us. “I’ll let Sumner off with a warning since she doesn’t know our rules. I am very disappointed in you, though. What do good boys do?”

“They behave,” Luca answers, lowering his head.