The Run ©2014 Sydney Wray

Chapter 37

"Yes."

"So there is nothing we can do?" David asked.

"I'm afraid there isn't."

~~~~~~~

I sobbed into the phone receiver. "Lavender-it's happening all over again. I'm going back into the Foster system."

"Shh-no. No you're not, Linds. It's just temporary." She soothed. "I really wish I could get down there right away-but I have midterms in honor classes all week. My mom will never let me go."

I nodded, pressing the phone harder against my cheek. "I understand."

There was a pause.

"Lavender..what am I going to do?" I asked, my voice low and trembling.

"You're going to do what you've always done. You're going to march right on in to that place like you own it, and conquer it like you've done with everything else you've had to deal with in your life." She said as-a-matter-a-factly.

"Okay." I whispered. "I'll talk to you later."

"Okay-love you."

"Love you too."

After the line went dead, I stuck my head in the pillow, and screamed.

~~~~~~~~

Because there was a 'possible' threat concerning my home in the social worker's eyes, I had to leave the next day. School was not mandatory for me-I had to become settled into another room that I've become accustomed to over the years.

"Lindsey, we're going to get you out of this." Lucy rubbed my arm, her other hand clinging to David's.

I nodded. I hoped so.

"As soon as possible, I promise you. Just hang in tight, and we're going to try to schedule the court date for sooner." David said, shaking his head in self-anger.

"Lindsey Garland?"

I turned around, and faced a tough-looking women with black hair.

She held out her hand. "I'm Jennifer Oat, but the girls call me Miss. I expect you to do the same."

I struggled to keep my face as pleasant as possible. My eyes kept darting to her black hair, obviously dyed from blonde to its color now. The roots were edging further down, and I mentally cringed. I managed a nod, and followed her desperately-overdue waxed eyebrow in the direction of the house.

Lucy waved limply, and I pulled my suitcase along with me and up the steps.

The house was Red, with white trimming and ugly cement poles. It reminded me of a prison.

Miss opened the door, and motioned for me to enter. I did, and immediately spelt a stale smell that seemed to linger in place as my nose became accustomed.

An old wooden staircase descended upward in front of me, and a living room sat to the left. There was no room to the right, but a hallway that ran along the staircase.

"The bedrooms are up the stairs, and you'll be sharing with Hanna-she's your age. I'll have the girls introduce themselves to you before dinner. Your room is to the right, and you take the free bed in the corner." Miss instructed like a Sargent drilling orders, and I found myself nodding robotically along.

I climbed the steps, my suitcase hitting each step. Miss followed behind, glaring at my suitcase.

I stopped. "Are you okay?"

Miss looked at me. "Most girls here don't even have a backpack."

"My adoptive parents bought this for me." I explained. It's not like it was my fault the other girls didn't own something like mine.