Inside her Mind

I.

Millie....", there's a pause as her foster father fiddles with his fingers.

His wife puts a comforting hand on his thigh, nodding. His gaze turns back to Millie, the light reflecting on his glasses, she notices. She always liked his glasses, it made him look friendly.

"Millie, it was great having you here. Really it was.", he adds with urgency that the eleven- year- old doesn't really understand. A smile lies on his face, but it doesn't look very comfortable, she notes in her head. Her foster mother sighs, "What we are trying to say is, that we decided to adopt." He nods, underlining her point, " Yeah, we did."

It's clear that they are not talking about me.

"Did you know that studies show that adopted children, on average, have higher rates of early-life trauma exposure before placement compared to non-adopted peers?", Millie speaks with her usual stoic face. Her foster father laughs nervously, rubbing his neck, his wife decides to answer her, "That's awful sweetie, but we met this beautiful little baby boy, and we love to give him a home. But sadly, we can provide for you both." Millie nods her head along to show them that she understands. " That means that you must go to another home, do you understand?", he asks, confusing her.

I nod. Wasn't it obvious?

"Yes, I understand.", she decides to answer verbally, " Thank you for kindness. When does Mrs. James come to get me?".

"They said that they would pick you up around 4.", her foster mother looks at her clock, letting out a surprised gasp,
"Oh my, that's in half an hour. Come on I'll help you pack." She rushes to grab Millie's hand, but the girl just shakes her head.

"No need, my things are already packed.", seeing their confused looks she continues, " No home is forever."

Only half an hour later it's time for their goodbyes. The three wait at the front door, Millie's bright pink worn out Hello Kitty backpack sitting on her back, her violin case in her right und a transport box in her left.

"Did you bring Steve?", her foster mother asks, grimacing as she sees Millie holding out her transport box.

"Yes, I got him.", a small smile makes it to the girl's face as she watches her little friend. Suddenly a car screeches to halt right at the side of the street. A man stumbles out of the car, his breath coming out in short puffs. Millie notices a little ketchup stain sitting on top of the shirt, that gets stretched by his large belly.

"I am so...", the catches his breath, "I am really sorry for being late.". "It's only three minutes, no need to apologize.", her foster mother speaks, squeezing Millie's shoulder as she eyes the man.

"Uh, who exactly are you? We were expecting Mrs. James.", her foster father voices the confusion that Millie felt too.

"Ah, yes of course. I'm Mr.-", he puts a hand on his chest, but that action causes some papers to fall out of the folder that he's holding in the same hand. "Shucks.", he calls out bending down to pick up the papers.

Millie lays down her luggage to help the man. On one of the papers, she sees a picture of a young man, Benjamin she reads as she passes the paper over.

"Thank you, very much young lady.", he says to her, with a close eyed smile. She doesn't know what it is but it's then that she decides that she likes the man.

"As I was saying my name is Mr. Hameson, Paul Hameson. I'm Millie's newly assigned social worker.", he crouches down to be at eye level with her.

I never understand why people do that, I can lift my eyes perfectly fine.

"Mrs. James was assigned to a new case, but she told me to tell you that she will miss you very much.", Mr. Hameson tells her.

"Did you know that cockroaches can survive for a week without their heads?", Millie asks him and Mr. Hameson seems confused for a second before he starts smiling.