Chapter 1

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⚠️TW for substance abuse, self harm, disordered eating, self harm, abuse, domestic violence, sexual assault, and more. Take these seriously!⚠️

June 29th, 2021

My thighs stick to the vinyl seats of Danes car. Dane is my social worker from back when I lived in Rienhigh.

"She'll be the one! I can feel it." He says looking grinning through the windshield mirror. I give him a fake smile then return to picking at my nails. We're going to the 4th foster house this year. 34 in all. All being three years. We've been on the hunt for an adoptive family ever since my mom overdosed on oxy on the family room couch.

I found her when I came home from school and ignored it for days. It wasn't until her body starting rotting that I called the police. At first, I was the number one suspect. They thought I killed her or poisoned her because I waited so long to call. Finally they let me off the hook and into foster care. Looking back, a cell at the county jail is probably better than the foster houses I've lived in.

Crackheads, scum parents who fostered 20 kids and fed them once a week, abusive mothers who would chase me with a knife if I made an mistake, and dads who would have there way with me every night when there wives went to sleep.

I know this girl will be no different. She'll act all perfect in front of Dane and the second he turns his back, she'll be chasing me with knives. It's how it always is. I've told Dane this thousands of times. He never believes me. He's 50 years old so he would never believe a 15 year old.

We pull into a small driveway leading to a pretty little rancher. By far one of the nicer houses I've been to. Dane gets out first and opens my car door. He pops the trunk and I grab my bags from it. We walk up the stone pathway lined by small flowers. Nothing crazy but still an attempt into making her yard look presentable.

We walk up to the big white door and Dane takes the lead my knocking. Instantly the door swings open and we're met by a short brunette woman. She puts her hand out in front of me to shake it.

"I'm Amelia Shepherd, and I'm guessing you're Claire?" She says shaking my hand. I smile at her and nod. She lets go of my hand and shakes Danes hand. She invites us in and Dane does his usual scope of the house. I know CPS evaluates all the foster parents but he likes to be extra cautious with his clients.

"So would you like anything? Hot tea, coffee, water, anything?" Amelia asks as we enter her kitchen. It's cute, flowers on the windowsill, family photos on the fridge held by cute magnets, and flowery towels hanging by the oven handle.

I turn to the fridge to look at all of the pictures. Big groups of people, some random strangers, Amelia kissing some guy on the cheek, and a couple from ages ago, probably her parents or something. The guy she's kissing has me intrigued so I point it out to her.

"Who's this guy?" I ask, pointing to the Polaroid held up by a ladybug magnet.

"That's Derek." She smiles sorrowfully with a soft glistening in her eye. "He's my brother. He died a few years back." She smiles at me then looks back at the photo.

Shit. Her first impression of me is bringing up her dead brother. She already hates me. We're one step away from the knife.

We spend a few minutes getting to know each other and going over logistics until Dane decides to leave. He leans in and kisses me on the head and whispers in my ear as she walks past.

"Don't scare this one off." He says in a hushed, husky tone. Yeah I'm the one doing the scaring. He waves as he walks out the door and I brace myself for the real Amelia.

"What are you thinking for dinner?" I know it's only 5 but I'm starving. I was thinking pizza but we don't have to." She says as she hoist herself up onto the counter.

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