rs, now felt like a stranger's. She pulled a worn black duffel bag from her closet and methodicall

r fingertips. A battered paperback copy of The Meditations by Ma

ting in the car, eager to escape the lingering scent of poverty. A moment lat

t, honey," Brenda said, her voice thick with false sentiment.

r. Her silence was a wal

the tense quiet. She stepped into the hallway to take the call, her vo

oze, her hand still on the zipper of h

phn

blood r

spered into the phone.

to the gut. This wasn't a rand

? That's your safety net, sweetie, not mine... Yes, I told them how 'difficult' Alison is. They're already on edge about her. You just kee

that followed was heavier, m

, her face wreathed in a fake, s

rayed her, and conspired against her. Her own eyes were completely void of emotion. The last flick

shoulder and walked past Brenda

ight, she didn't look back at the peeling paint and

olds lowered a camera with a long-focus lens. He had been documenting the enti

tary moment. Her expression wasn't sad or scared. It was one of de

his pocket. A text f

por

h his thumb, his eye

C. Custody transferred to biological p

he photo he h

was inst

lance. I want to

incoln. The door closed with a solid, expensive thud. He

disappeared behind her. She felt completely and utterly alone, unaware that she was be