The Children's Home

Chapter 3: Winnie

TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONE

CWs: MENTION OF DEATH

Edited: 5-16-24

I gawked. I couldn't help it. It was as if she'd stepped out of a storybook. Her light blond hair was pulled back in a neat braid, tied off with a baby blue satin ribbon. She had pale skin and ice-blue eyes that conveyed wisdom far beyond her years. Her comfortable cotton dress, which was the same hue as her eyes, was plain, but appeared far lovelier than Her Haughty Ladyship's expensive gown. Although she wore no makeup, her face positively glowed. When she noticed me, she smiled warmly.

"Are you Winifred Jones?" I managed to gasp.

"Yes," she replied. "Your name's Nadia Blair, right?"

"Um, yeah." I fidgeted with a loose thread from my t-shirt.

She extended her hand for a handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Please, do call me Winnie, though."

This is the nicest someone's ever treated me since I left the Bartholomews. If she's gonna be my roomie, I guess staying here won't be that bad.

I returned the shake. Her grip was firm yet gentle. "Nice to meet you, Winnie!" I scanned the halls, but I couldn't spot anything that resembled a bedroom. "Where's our room?"

"I'll show you if you like. The halls here can be a maze for newcomers."

"Sure. Thanks."

My roommate led me down the winding corridor to a room marked "Winifred Ellen Jones & Lucianne Nora Harolds".

"Sorry about the name," she apologized. "My old roommate, Lucianne, aged out of Lady Folman's program." She cracked open the door and spoke in a cheery voice. "Come on in, Nadia!" Then she dropped her voice to a whisper. "We'll be safe here. By the way, you can drop the accent. I know it's fake. I'm surprised Lady Folman didn't realize you weren't English."

I let out a sigh, relieved to talk normally again.. "How phony is it?"

"Fake enough for any true Englishman to burst into laughter at the sound of it. Anyway, I'll wager your real name isn't Nadia..." She trailed off before picking up again a few seconds later. "Or is it?"

"You're right, Winnie," I confessed. "My true name's Arwen. I've been orphaned since I was four. My parents were killed—no, murdered—in a so-called 'car accident'"

"Oh, that's horrid!" the girl sympathized. "I don't even know who my parents are. I was abandoned as a baby at the manor's doorstep with a note." She grabbed the note from a drawer in her dresser. "I'm going to read it to you.

"Dear Lady Christine Folman,

"Please take care of our daughter, Winifred Ellen Jones. We do not have enough money to raise another child. We have no relatives who will take her in. However, we also do not want to leave her on the streets. We think she has great potential and would like you to raise her as your own.

- Hannah and Derek Jones."

"Man, that's rough," I realized.

"Yes, it is," Winnie agreed. "Wait! Do you hear that?"

"Yeah," I whispered in my hokey accent. "It sounds like... footsteps!"