"How many times is this going to keep happening?"
A male voice pulled Harper Cain from her thoughts. Reluctantly, she looked away from the sun-streaked window to the man standing in the doorway. Doctors and nurses hurried out in the corridor, but she focused her attention on him. Shane Barker. His tired eyes bore into hers, his face creased with worry.
"This can't keep happening, Harper," he repeated, his voice softer this time. Not angry, just tired.
Harper nodded slowly to show that she had been listening. "I know. Sorry."
Was she sorry? No. But she was sad that she caused more problems for Shane. For herself.
Harper turned back to the window where the outside world continued, oblivious to the mess that was her life. It was unfair, and unjust, but that was just how things were for her. And she had come to accept it a long time ago. This was her life. A continuous loop of the same bullshit that tried to chip away at her little by little. But Harper was stronger than that, and the wall she put up protected her from situations like this. From the people that had been nothing but mere passersby in her life. Strangers that promised to help but then only to tear her down.
Shane stepped further into the room and leaned against the wall, carefully watching her. As if she might break at any moment. His frown was evident, a permanent expression whenever Harper was concerned. He took in the bruises on her face, then the stitches gracing her forehead. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," Harper answered. Perhaps a little too quickly.
Shane sighed and ran a hand down his face. It was pretty clear that he didn't believe her. "You have a concussion, Harper. Nothing about that says that you're okay."
So why are you asking? Harper thought but didn't say it. Instead, she shrugged and turned to face him, avoiding his eyes as she didn't want to see the pity in them. "It's only a few stitches. It's not even that serious." Nothing compared to the other injuries she'd sustained over the years. The worried look remained on his face despite her claims. "I'm fine. Seriously, Shane, you don't have to worry."
He nodded at her answer, ready to say more, but she didn't let him.
"So what happens next?" Harper asked, morbidly curious about where things went from here. The future was and always has been unstable for the sixteen-year-old. Nothing was ever concrete but rather everchanging. And that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
"Well, the Coopers aren't pressing any charges," he explained. "Which, thankfully, won't land you back in juvie."
A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her stay at the Coopers had been a nightmare from the moment she stepped into that house. Mr. and Mrs. Cooper seemed friendly initially, but the abuse began shortly after her first night. It started slowly, with emotional abuse that gradually became physical. And all that Harper could do was try to survive and avoid their unpredictable temperaments.
Harper put up with a lot in her short life but could only take so much abuse. Everything she did or said ended with some sort of deranged punishment. There was no avoiding it, no matter how hard she tried to. So she just came to bear it. That was until her last night there when something in Harper snapped. Anyone would want to defend themselves in that situation, and that's what she did. She shoved Mr. Cooper back when he approached her, ready to strike. Not hard, but enough to put some distance between them so she could run. That single act enraged him even more, sending him into a spiral. He threw punches while his wife stood idly by. When Harper tried to run, he slammed her head into the edge of the kitchen counter. Hard enough to break the skin. The blood poured from the wound, momentarily stopping the assault against her.
Shortly after, Mrs. Cooper called the police. Of course, the Coopers blamed Harper for everything. They said she was deviant, dangerous, and unpredictable. That she had struck first while they had done nothing wrong. The cops didn't question their statement and pulled her out of the house. They didn't even take her to the hospital until Shane arrived, angry that Harper received no aid for her injuries.
The last twenty-four hours had been a nightmare but, sadly, it wasn't even the worst of what Harper went through.
"Sorry to interrupt," a woman's cheerful voice said, pulling Harper out of her more morbid thoughts.
She was thankful for the interruption of a trip down nightmare lane.
"Are you excited to be released today?" The doctor questioned, making her way into the room.
Harper nodded though nothing was exciting about it. At least here, she was safe, even if it had been for one night. Again, where she went from here continued to linger at the back of her mind.
The doctor stepped closer to her to examine the stitches on her forehead. Satisfied with how they were holding up, she stepped back. "You'll have to come back in about a week to get the stitches removed, but you're healing well," she said, her words directed at both Harper and Shane.
The doctor made a note on her tablet and then glanced toward Shane. "Can I speak with you? Alone?"
Shane nodded once, then handed Harper some money. "Why don't you grab us coffee while we talk?" It was more of a suggestion than a question.
Harper looked from one to the other, her suspicions rising.
"Harper," Shane said, motioning for her to leave.
With a sigh, she grabbed the money and then made her way out of the room. She glanced back briefly, mildly curious about the conversation, but their hushed voices made it impossible to hear anything. No doubt it was about her.
It didn't take long for Harper to find the coffee machine. She stared at the few options it offered before pressing one of the buttons. The machine whirred to life, humming happily as it dripped its contents into the styrofoam cup underneath. The steam rose as the cup filled with the dark liquid, its scent wrapping around her. For hospital coffee, it didn't smell too terrible. She watched, hypnotized, as the long stream turned into individual drops.
Her mind was back in the hospital room where Shane and the doctor spoke. It was irritating that they didn't include her in a conversation about her. She had a right to know but then again, maybe not.
With a sigh, she placed the lid on the cup and brought it to her lips, eager to taste the caffeine.
"You're not really going to drink that, are you?"
She turned towards the voice where a boy her age stood off to the side. He watched her curiously though a kind smile danced on his face. "That was kind of the plan. That's why, you know, I'm getting coffee."
"But it's hospital coffee. From a machine," he stated.
Harper looked curiously at the drink in her hand, the heat from the cup warming her hand. "Coffee's coffee." She rolled her eyes and brought the cup to her lips, ignoring his horrified look. She took a tentative sip of the steaming liquid, the caffeine hitting her instantly. But soon, that taste of caffeine turned to a burnt, watery aftertaste. She swallowed it with a grimace. "Okay, that's really gross."
"I tried to warn you," he said with a laugh.
Harper frowned at the coffee machine as if it had betrayed her, then poured the remainder of the so-called coffee into the drain. She discarded the cup, willing the terrible aftertaste to dissipate.
"There is an actual cafe in the lobby, you know. If you want, I can show you where it is," he offered.
Harper regarded him with curiosity, a hint of distrust dancing in her eyes. As much as she wanted coffee, the stranger danger alarms went off in her head. The reaction was ridiculous as Harper met more new people in a couple of months than the average teenager did in their lifetime. However, her past experiences caused her to be on full alert each time a new face appeared.
"I'm Miguel. My mom's an X-ray technician here," he explained with a stammer, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. He looked nervous, as if failing his first impression of her. "I don't normally hang out in hospitals or -."
"I'm Harper," she interrupted his ramblings. Looking over her shoulder, she could see that the door to her room remained closed. A conversation not meant for her ears taking place behind it. Sighing, she turned back to Miguel, who eagerly awaited a reply. She contemplated his offer though she was unsure if she could trust him. But she told herself it was only coffee, and he seemed harmless enough.
So did everyone else in your life, she reminded herself bitterly but shook that thought from her mind.
"Sure, lead the way," she said, her need for coffee winning.
Miguel smiled and started towards the elevators, with Harper following behind. Their footsteps echoed off the tiled floor, as a lull in the conversation filled with silence.
After a couple more steps, Harper winced in pain. She gingerly touched her side, where she felt another parting gift of the Coopers making itself known. A sigh left her lips as the memories of that night returned. It was a wonder that she made it out of there in one piece. The cheery doctor had told her as much during her initial examination, calling her lucky.
The ding of the doors opening pulled her from her thoughts, and she stepped into the elevator. She let Miguel hit the button for the lobby and watched as the metal doors slid closed. Locking them inside the metal box.
"So," Miguel started, breaking the silence. "Who are you visiting?" He questioned, throwing a look her way.
Harper tilted her head as if not understanding the question. It took a few seconds to process his words. "No one," she said with a shake of her head. "I got a concussion after hitting my head pretty bad the other day."
His eyes widened, traveling to the stitches on her forehead. "Oh! Are you okay? I mean, should you be resting or something?"
"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm getting released today. My so... Shane is signing the paperwork now."
Miguel smiled. "Who's Shane? Is that your dad or brother?"
"Social worker, actually. I'm in the foster system."
Again, his eyes widened in surprise though he tried to hide it.
It was a common reaction whenever people discovered that Harper belonged to the state. She was used to people's questions, their judgment, and, more often than not, their comments. Reactions were always mixed, as if she had chosen this life for herself.
"Sorry. I-I didn't know."
"It's okay. Some people have a family while others have it a bit more complicated."
Harper was used to the way her life was. Maybe used to was a bit of an exaggeration. This has been her life for the past ten years, and it wouldn't change. While Shane believed she'd find a family and get adopted, Harper didn't. She was a realist who knew she'd be in the system until she turned eighteen. Only then would she finally be in charge of her life. All she needed to do was survive a couple more years.
He nodded though his expression grew sad, the smile in his eyes dimmer.
More than anything, Harper hated the pity look. It was the look people got when they didn't know what to say or do. She'd learned to ignore the pitiful looks thrown her way as no amount of feeling sorry for her would fix her situation because if that were the case, it would've happened a long time ago.
"So, what's your story?" Harper asked, expertly changing the subject.
The doors opened with another ding, revealing the busy lobby. People milled about with mixed looks of everything between happiness, anger, and sadness. The two of them stepped out, and Miguel turned down a corner. The cafe was visible towards the end of the hallway.
Caught off guard by her question, Miguel shrugged. "Nothing interesting," he said as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. "I was new here last semester. I moved here with my mom and grandma from Riverside. It was kinda rough transferring in the middle of the year."
"Being the new kid sucks," Harper agreed, as she'd been in countless schools over the years. Always starting over, always being the new kid. It'd been rough initially, but it was just another thing she'd become used to. Having started over many times, Harper had given up trying to make friends. There would always be a new school waiting for her, a new county or town where she'd be the new kid.
"But other than that..." he trailed off, unsure what else to add.
Unconvinced, Harper looked at him. "That's it? Come on, there has to be something. Hobbies, a juvie record, anything?"
Miguel laughed, shaking his head. "Squeaky clean record," he answered with a grin. "But karate's a pretty big hobby."
"Karate? I thought that faze died down in the eighties."
"It's always been pretty big in the Valley. I mean, it's made a huge comeback," Miguel explained as they reached the cafe. He pushed the door open and allowed Harper to go in first.
"Do you want anything?" Harper offered as she stepped up to the barista behind the register. She couldn't imagine what it was like working here. As a barista, sure. But a barista in a hospital seemed pretty grim. You either had the super happy customers whose whole life didn't come crashing down, or you got the poor souls who had the world yanked out from beneath their feet.
"No, I'm good. Thanks."
Harper placed her order and then handed over the money. "You were saying?" She asked as she pocketed the change.
"I joined to defend myself. As a new kid, I got bullied a lot. And it's helped me learn how to stand up for myself. And, not to brag, but I won the Under Eighteen All Valley Karate Championship a couple of weeks ago."
"Impressive," Harper said. "Congrats!"
Miguel smiled, but a hint of pink reached his cheeks. As if he was slightly embarrassed at having disclosed that.
Once again, they entered the elevator. For two people who had just met, a comfortable silence filled the space between them. It was a rarity for Harper to feel relaxed around someone. Her trust in people diminished yearly, and it was close to empty. Ever since she landed in foster care, people she should've been able to trust have done nothing but disappoint her. Abuse her. Lie to her. It was challenging to live life when she didn't know who to trust. Or couldn't bring herself to trust because of past traumas. Yet, with Miguel, she felt at ease.
The elevator doors opened, revealing her floor. The door to her room was now open, but there was no way to know if Shane was alone or with her doctor. They stepped out, and Harper felt sad at having to say goodbye. She was making a friend for the first time in a long time. Unfortunately, the friendship would be short-lived. Perhaps even nonexistent, as they had only met twenty minutes ago.
Harper took a step towards her room. "Thanks for the coffee save."
Miguel nodded. "Yeah. Of course." He watched her take another step back before he spoke again. "Hey, uh, maybe we can hang out one day."
"Maybe." She nodded, although she knew that was less than likely to happen. "And maybe I'll even come for your karate title," she jokingly added.
"Sounds like a plan," he said before he added, "Do you want to exchange numbers? Just in case?"
"I don't have a phone. I'm a foster kid, remember?"
Miguel nodded with a look of embarrassment. "Right, sorry."
"Harper!" Shane's voice carried across the hall, breaking up the conversation between the two teenagers. He motioned for her to come over, indicating that her time as a typical teen had ended.
With a sigh, she looked back at Miguel and smiled at him. "I should go."
"I'll see you around," Miguel said, his voice hopeful as Harper approached Shane.
❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀
As the car picked up speed, the scenery passed by in a flash, blurring together until it was one misshapen mess. The area they were currently in grew nicer, with the houses more manicured the longer they drove. Nothing looked familiar to Harper as she looked out the window, her body pressed against the passenger side door. She fixed her gaze on the town center. Her eyes took in the houses and shopping centers, wondering where they were headed. It was a mystery to her but not one that she was particularly interested in unraveling. Sometimes the unknown was good as it kept the disappointment at bay.
"Why didn't you mention your other injuries?" Shane's voice broke through the serenity of the drive. He'd been quiet since they left the hospital.
Harper sighed, closing her eyes for just a moment. Instead of answering, she shrugged though she doubted he would be aware of the movement.
"You should've told me," he said, his voice laced with worry as he threw a quick look her way. "Harper, answer me."
She shifted in her seat, wincing as she adjusted her body more comfortably. "What's the point, Shane? It's not like it would've made a difference."
"You get hurt, you say something," he said, incredulous at her response.
Harper rolled her eyes at his naivety, that he still believed Child Protective Services had the foster kids' best interests at heart. They never did and probably never would. As sad as that was, it was the truth.
"Come on, Harper, you know that I'm here to help."
"It's my word against theirs," she told him, turning back to look out the window. A few street signs passed, but she couldn't determine what they said.
"That's not true."
Harper laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "You work for the system but I'm in the system. Foster kids never get the benefit of the doubt."
"I don't think that's true," he said, though he sounded doubtful even as he said it.
"Really?" She asked, glancing over at him. "The cops didn't even ask me what happened. All they saw was a broken foster kid who's been in juvie. I'm just a file to them."
Shane let out a long sigh, possibly realizing that she was right. That CPS couldn't give a shit about the foster kids if they tried. It was a grim view, but pretending not to see what was happening was much worse.
The silence felt heavy as they drove a couple more miles. They didn't speak, not that there was anything either of them could say. The previous conversation had left a bitter taste in both of their mouths. It always did whenever she lit a spotlight on the unfairness and cruelty of the foster system. She felt Shane knew what it was like, but he chose to wear rose-colored glasses like a suit of armor—protection from the reality of it.
The minutes stretched as they drove on. Harper squinted at the signs as shops and businesses went by in a blur. "What's in Van Nuys?" Harper asked.
"Your new foster home," Shane answered with a smile, a look of excitement in his eyes.
"Great," Harper muttered, sarcasm wrapping around that one word. Her excitement didn't match Shane's though she was glad she wouldn't be placed in a group home or juvie.
"I have a good feeling about this one." He'd said this before, and she knew better than to believe it.
"Great," she repeated as her anxiety rose to the surface. She fidgeted with a loose thread on her shirt, twirling it around her finger.
Shane nudged her as they briefly stopped at a red light. "It won't be bad, I promise."
"Who are they?" She asked, not because she was interested but because she knew that Shane couldn't wait to tell her.
"Olivia and Lucas Hudson. It's their first time fostering," he said, throwing a look her way. "But they have a son, Cole. I think he's eleven. So you'll have a foster sibling."
Harper rolled her eyes at his enthusiasm.
Oblivious to her reaction, Shane continued to talk. "They're both teachers. Olivia teaches at the middle school, and Lucas is the coach at the high school. And...."
Harper drowned out the rest of his words, knowing better than to get her hopes up.
"Sounds pretty cool, huh?" Shane asked, breaking through her thoughts.
"Yeah, they sound nice," Harper said after a few seconds.
"I have a great feeling about this foster home," he repeated.
She smiled at his words, but the happiness didn't quite reach her eyes.
Harper looked out the window again, knowing she only had a few more minutes of feeling as if her life was stable. Once they reached her new foster home, all of that would change. She paid attention to the neighborhood and houses that lined the streets. Everything looked quite lovely and peaceful, but appearances were deceiving.
The car slowed and stopped in front of a two-story house that rested on a slight incline. A stone fence wrapped around the entire property, or that's what it looked like from this vantage point. The first floor was made of various gray stones, while the upper floor was white wood. It was a nice contrast, especially with the wooden door and black trimmed windows. A bike rested against the side of the garage, and a basketball hoop was installed above the garage door.
From the outside, it looked inviting and pleasant, but every foster kid knew it was what went on behind closed doors that mattered the most.
Harper sighed, this time as a wave of anxiety flooded her. It was silly, given how many homes she'd been in over the years. Perhaps the events of the past couple of days poured doubt and fear into her mind. But there was not much that she could do except exit the car and meet her new foster family.
"It's nice, huh?" Shane asked as he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Yeah," she answered.
Shane gave her a gentle nudge, and they walked onto the covered front porch. A bench swing rested on the far left, and a welcome mat was snuggled beneath the door. Before he could reach for the doorbell, the door swung open.
A woman in her mid-thirties stood in the doorway, her honey-brown eyes sparkling as she took in the two people on her porch. "Hi!" She said excitedly. Her wide smile seemed to reach her eyes. A genuine smile. Her attention landed on the teenage girl before her. "You must be Harper. It's so nice to meet you," she said, then looked over her shoulder to call into the house. "Lucas! They're here."
A moment later, a man came into view. "What did you do? Stake out the window?" He asked with a laugh as he stood beside her. He looked around his wife's age, perhaps a couple of years older. "You must be Shane and Harper. I'm Lucas, and this is Olivia, my wife." He looked Harper's way, and his smile faltered as he took in the bruises on her face and the stitches on her forehead.
"Hi." She couldn't figure out just why she felt so nervous. This wasn't her first or even fifth foster home. Perhaps she was still traumatized by her last placement.
A wide and easy grin spread across his face as he looked at her. "We're glad you're here."
"Thanks."
"Alright," Shane said with a clap of his hands. "I have to get going, but I'll check in later to see how things are, okay? I think I filled you in on everything last night and again this morning when we spoke. But, if for whatever reason you need me, you have my number, so don't hesitate to reach out."
"Thanks, but I think we'll be fine," Lucas told him, smiling over at Harper.
Shane turned to Harper. "Guess this is it. You'll be okay, I promise." He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.
Harper nodded, but she wasn't as convinced as Shane was. The realist in her was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop, and she was scared of what she would find.
With a final wave, Shane returned to his car. The engine's sound and the slight screeching of tires indicated that he had left.
Once again, she was in an entirely new place, starting over. It shouldn't scare her as much but it did. Harper took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Let's get inside." Olivia and Lucas stepped aside to let Harper enter the house first.
It all seemed so ordinary, so innocent. Just a typical house for a typical family. The house wasn't huge, but it was spacious enough. An open floor plan made the rooms feel bigger than they were, and the platforms divided up the designated spaces nicely. The stairs to the second floor were to the right of the entryway, and the living room was just to the left, which led into a dining room.
The home both looked and felt comfortable and inviting. For her sake, she hoped for that to be true because she didn't know how many more abusive homes she could take. It was all getting to be too much to handle though she put on a brave facade. She wanted to be placed in a good home for once where she wouldn't be scared to speak or sleep or even breathe. It seemed like a simple thing to ask for, but the reality of being placed in a safe space was much rarer than one would think.
The door closed behind her with a click, and silence filled the air. Unlike the other homes she'd been in, this silence was awkward. Almost as if Olivia and Lucas didn't know what to say or do. Their nervousness seemed to ease her anxiety some.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Olivia offered, stepping beside her.
"I'm good, but thanks."
"How about we give you a tour?" Lucas offered, and his wife nodded, grateful for him taking the lead.
Harper followed them through the living room into the dining room. Beyond that, a double archway led into the kitchen, which had a small dining area. Every inch of the house looked lived in, well cared for. The furniture was minimal, but the decorations added life to the house. Papers cluttered the kitchen counters, and an open laptop sat at the small dining table. It was precisely what a home should look like. But Harper didn't allow herself to feel at ease. At least not yet. It was much too early to let her guard down and feel comfortable.
Lucas and his wife led the way back toward the front of the house before climbing the stairs. Harper followed behind, taking in the photos on the walls. Family photos that painted a story of how Lucas and Olivia became a family. She smiled softly at the pictures, at the sight of a happy family. But her smile was short-lived and quickly replaced with a frown as she was reminded that her happy family had disintegrated when she was just a child.
The second floor was extensive, the landing holding a small sofa beneath the window. The doors to the rooms were all closed, but they showed Harper where everything was. With the tour over, the couple turned to her expectantly.
"What do you think?" Olivia asked.
"It's nice. But... where do I sleep?" She boldly assumed they had something ready for her, but the question had to be asked.
Lucas and Olivia shared a quick look.
"It's not exactly my first time in a foster home. So where do I sleep?"
"We'll show you," Olivia said.
Harper nodded, then turned towards the stairs, taking the first couple of steps down. But when she looked over her shoulder, she realized they hadn't followed her. The couple remained on the second floor, watching curiously to determine where Harper was going. "Sorry, I thought I would be crashing on the couch downstairs," she said before she rejoined them. She nodded when her eyes landed on the small sofa she had noticed. "Right. This works, too." It was a small loveseat, but Harper had slept on worse in much worse locations and rooms than the upstairs landing.
"This isn't where you'll be sleeping," Olivia said gently, looking sadly at her husband.
Harper looked at both of them with a shrug. "Okay, so where then?"
Lucas smiled before opening the second door on the left. The one room that they hadn't shown her on the door. With a smile, he motioned for her to look. "We were thinking this would be good."
It took her a moment to move as she wasn't sure what to expect beyond that door. A single mattress in an unfinished room or stairs leading up to the attic were some of the things that came to mind. But she froze the moment she stepped up to the room's entrance. Confusion clouded her face as she couldn't make sense of anything she saw.
"What is this?" Harper glanced around the room, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Olivia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's your room."
The guest room was large, bigger than anything that Harper was ever given. Or allowed to stay in. A double bed rested on the right, gently pressed near the window. Two white shelves hung above the bed where a couple of pictures rested. A nightstand stood on one side of the bed, while the side by the window held a chair with a throw blanket draped over it. The decorations were simple and minimal but allowed room for someone to make the space their own. To decorate to their heart's content. The room had everything someone needed and contained a built-in closet, a dresser, and a small desk.
"I get my own room?" Harper questioned slowly, turning to face them. She was ready for them to tell her they were just joking before showing her the basement. "Seriously?"
"Yeah. Where did you think you'd sleep?" Lucas asked, bemused.
Harper shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know. A couch or something."
Olivia looked at her with kindness, but there was something else there, too. Curiosity, pity.
Harper looked away from her gaze, glancing cautiously around the room as if it might disappear.
Olivia squeezed her arm before she stepped towards the dresser and pulled open the top drawer. "There are some clothes in here that I think should fit you. We'll take a trip to the store tomorrow or later this week for something better. In the meantime, feel free to shower and get dressed in something clean."
"Cole probably won't be home for a couple more hours, so you'll have a chance to adjust. We'll be downstairs if you need anything," Lucas told her.
Once they left, Harper turned in a circle to take in the room again. It was hers. She could hardly believe that this was happening. Perhaps Shane was right about this foster family, though she didn't want to get ahead of herself. Things could always change, and she'd rather not get her hopes up. No matter how much she wanted to. Harper had gotten comfortable in the past only to get hurt, and the last thing she wanted was to feel that kind of disappointment again.
Harper pulled the dresser drawer open and looked at the neatly arranged clothes. They weren't her style, but they were new and clean. Something that had also been a rarity in her life. She picked out an outfit and then approached the bathroom across the hall. With the door closed and locked, she let out a heavy sigh as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, but several stray strands escaped the elastic and framed her face. Her brown eyes looked haunted and empty as she took in the cut on her forehead, close to her hairline. The stitches stood out against her pale skin, and dark bruising spread out from the wound.
She looked worse than she thought.
Pulling her gaze away from her reflection, she took in the bathroom with the shower tub combo. Fresh towels sat on the shelf, and it didn't take her long to locate the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. She lifted her shirt but stopped midway. She stepped towards the door and jiggled the knob to ensure the lock had been turned. Reassured that she was locked in, she undressed. When Harper dropped her clothes into the hamper, she stepped towards the tub, but her reflection caused her to stop. She sucked in a deep breath and noticed the ugly blue and purple bruising covering her right side. More bruises and cuts covered her stomach, upper arms, and collarbone.
She covered her mouth as a sob escaped her lips. Her vision turned blurry with tears, and though she tried to blink them back, they spilled out nonetheless. The horrors of what Harper had gone through over the last few months, and years, finally hit her. Breaking through the wall she had put up a long time ago. She sank onto the floor as the tears flowed freely and did nothing to stop them.
Around an hour later, Harper was showered and dressed. Her eyes were still glassy, a bit red, but there wasn't anything she could do about that. At least now she felt almost human, as if the shower cleansed more than just the dirt off her. She felt better though her heart was still broken for the little girl who used to have a good life once upon a time ago.
She left the bathroom and opted to go downstairs, the sound of Olivia and Lucas's conversation and laughter drawing her in. She stood just outside the kitchen, watching them as they prepared dinner, all the while joking around. She smiled at the scene before her, comforted by how the couple acted around each other.
Their laughter stopped once they noticed her in the doorway, but their smiles remained.
"Hey, Harper," Olivia said gently, motioning for her to enter the room. "Are you settling in okay?"
"Yeah, I-I am. Thanks," Harper replied.
Olivia looked her over, taking in the slightly too-large clothes on her petite frame. "We'll go clothes shopping tomorrow," she decided.
"These are fine," Harper said, but Olivia tilted her head at the blatant lie. "Really. I mean, thanks, but...."
"No buts," Olivia told her, and she nodded to her words.
"Listen," Lucas started, looking at Olivia quickly as if for permission. When she nodded, he turned back to Harper. "We should probably talk about a few things. Set up some ground rules and things like that now that you're here."
"Sit down," Olivia said, gesturing towards the chair.
Harper sat down but held her breath. This is where things would go downhill, she was sure of it. She looked across the island at the couple, watching as they made eye contact, an unspoken conversation taking place between them. She was ready for whatever they threw her way because very little could surprise her these days. Her previous homes' unconventional rules and punishments prepared her for the worst.
"So," Lucas started, clearing his throat. "Shane told us a lot about you. Not everything because we only decided a day ago that you'll live here but we -"
"You read my file," Harper stated, thinking of the thick folder that contained her entire life. All the mistakes, pain, and anger all rolled into one.
"We did, yeah," Lucas told her, and she was surprised to see there was no judgment in his eyes. "We're not reducing you to a file, Harper, but I think it's important that we talk about this. Acknowledge it. You've been in a lot of fights over the years and -"
"Those weren't my fault. Shane told you that, right? That I had to defend myself?" Harper crossed her arms, feeling defensive of her messed up past. Like she had to justify everything she'd done in her life to survive a corrupt system. She was never one to shy away from a fight even if she did her best to avoid it. Sometimes you just have to stand up for yourself.
"He did," Olivia answered gently. "He told us your version of what happened."
Harper suspected that a lot of what Shane told them hadn't been in the file. Specifically the reasons for why she'd done the things she had. The file reduced her to nothing more than a defiant, angry teenager who'd broken the law.
"We're not judging you, Harper. We're just... we can't condone any kind of violence. So, while you're staying here, you need to try to avoid getting into fights. Into trouble," Lucas told her.
"Yeah, I'll try," Harper said, though it was usually easier said than done. She didn't go looking for trouble but it always found her.
"Look, you've been dealt a bad deal in life and we know that. We know it hasn't been easy for you but that's why we're here. To help you when everyone else failed to," Olivia said before adding, "We're going to have to trust each other, okay?"
Harper nodded but chose not to say anything. Trust was hard for her to give. With all the times she'd been let down by the people she was supposed to trust, Harper now doubted everyone who came into her life. It was a defense mechanism that she needed to protect herself with. If she didn't, no one else would.
"So, with that said, we'll need to know where you are at all times. We can't have you leaving the house without permission," Lucas said.
"Got it," Harper said quickly. So she was trapped here in this house. It figured that the perfect suburban home would double as a prison.
I knew it was too good to be true, she thought to herself with a quiet sigh.
Olivia noticed the look on her face and continued quickly, "That's not to say that you can't leave the house. We just need to know where you'll be. For now, the curfew will be at nine."
Harper nodded to both of their words but waited for more rules to come tumbling out of their mouths. When a few seconds passed, she chewed on her lip, her brow wrinkling. "That's it? Those are all the rules? No fights and a curfew?"
Olivia and Lucas exchanged a look and nodded simultaneously.
"Uh, yeah. That's it, I think," Lucas answered. "Why? Were you expecting more?"
Harper shrugged though the answer was yes. She had anticipated a lengthy list of rules that would remove her rights and freedom. But when none came, she was more than a little skeptical. "What about chores?" She finally asked, knowing that this could be where they got her.
"Oh, um," Lucas started, then cleared his throat as he struggled with what to say. He frowned at the hesitant look on Harper's face, the mistrust written in her eyes. "Honestly, it won't be anything more than what Cole has to do. You know, things like taking out the trash, washing the dishes, and keeping your room clean."
"Besides, it's summer. You should relax and have fun before the school year starts in the fall," Olivia added.
This was a first for Harper. The first time that she was instructed to just be a kid. And the first time that a set of rules and chores didn't make her feel like a modern-day Cinderella. It was a struggle for her to accept because it was so unreal and unheard of. There had been a couple of good foster homes in the past, but those families still treated her like a bad kid who would steal from them when they let their guard down. But it seemed like Olivia and Lucas opened their home to help her, to make her feel safe from the daily horrors of her life. And she didn't know how to respond to that.
"This isn't a joke, right?" Harper heard herself say before she could stop herself. "I mean, I know how things work. So I'm just wondering if all of this is real."
Lucas shook his head at her question, sharing a concerned look for Harper with his wife. "It's not a joke, I promise."
"We don't know what you've been through in the past, but we want to help you," Olivia told her, staring directly into Harper's eyes to make her believe this. "We're not here to make you work or hurt you."
Harper blinked a couple of times before nodding, believing everything would be okay. It was risky for her to believe them, but she did. Her head liked to tell her wicked lies that this was just some facade. But her heart told her otherwise. And she gave them the benefit of the doubt, hoping that it wouldn't come back to bite her later.
The conversation was finished, and Olivia returned to the dinner preparations. She subtly wiped at her eyes, but the action didn't go unnoticed by Harper. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour," she called over her shoulder.
Lucas stood up as well and joined Olivia at the kitchen counter.
Harper blew out a breath. Exhaustion hit her as the events of the day settled in around her. Her morning started out as a nightmare of not knowing where she would go or who she would stay with. The obscurity of her future had inspired fear, only for things to magically work out. The wall was still inside her, and Harper was not letting her guard down. But, simultaneously, she was slowly starting to entertain the idea that everything would be okay for a change. It was a weird thought to humor, and she hoped she wouldn't be disappointed. Again.
Harper stood up from the chair, the legs screeching lightly against the tiled floor. "Uhm, anything I can do to help?"
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"Where is he?" Lucas asked, checking the time on his phone for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. He shook his head at the empty seat at the table.
Olivia put a comforting hand on his arm before setting food on the table. "He'll be here," she said gently.
"He should've been home already," Lucas said, a frown pulling at his lips. "I swear, that kid is-"
Just then, the front door slammed shut, and his sentence remained unfinished. Quick footsteps made their way across the wooden floor, and, a moment later, Cole appeared in the dining room. His eyes took in the food, and he licked his lips before taking his place at the table. Somehow oblivious to Harper sitting across from him.
"Sweet, I'm starving!" He said, reaching over to grab the mashed potatoes.
Olivia lightly hit his hand. "Wash your hands first, Cole."
Cole frowned, then rolled his eyes before letting out a dramatic sigh. "Fine," he said, loudly pushing his chair back. He stepped out of the dining room and then popped his head back into the room. "Wait, who's this?" His eyes landed on Harper for the first time.
"This is Harper. Your foster sister," Oliva explained. "We told you she would be staying with us, remember?"
A grin stretched across his face, his eyes lighting up with the recollection. "Right. Cool," he said with a nod. "So, when did you get here?"
"Go wash up, and then you two will talk," Lucas told him, but Cole remained in his spot, curiously watching Harper. "Cole! Dinner's getting cold. Hurry up."
Cole nodded, then ran out of the room.
Olivia laughed, shaking her head at her preteen son. "Sorry about him," she said to Harper.
"It's okay." Harper never had a foster sibling so this was all new to her. There had been foster homes where she lived with other foster kids, but no family ever had a kid of their own. "He seems nice."
"Too bad he can't seem to tell time," Lucas muttered.
A few seconds later, Cole burst into the room and took his place at the table.
"You're late, Cole," Lucas told him with a disapproving shake.
Cole looked at his dad with wide eyes. "What are you talking about? You guys just told me to wash my hands, and now I'm late?"
"That's not -" Lucas started before sighing. "You got home after six. You were supposed to be here at five-thirty."
"Oh," Cole stretched out the word and nodded. "Sorry, we got caught up playing this cool video game. You can build this kingdom and fight off all these badass enemies."
"But what did we tell you to do if you're going to be late?" Lucas asked.
Cole paused to pile food onto his plate and glanced at his mom and then at his dad. "Call or text. Sorry," he said sheepishly.
"Just remember that for next time," Oliva told him.
Cole nodded. "So, when did you get here?" He asked again, his eyes falling onto Harper.
"A couple of hours ago," Harper answered, helping herself to the food. She took a small bite and smiled at her first real meal of the day.
"Cool," he said with a nod. "How long are you staying for?"
Harper opened her mouth to answer but closed it a moment later. She didn't have an answer for him, so she just shrugged.
"Right now, Harper's with us for the summer," Olivia answered. "We'll have to see how things go, but we're hoping she'll be here longer than that."
Cole nodded, slowly chewing his food as he stared at Harper. "What happened to your face?"
"Cole," Lucas said, a warning in his voice.
With a sigh, he slumped down in his seat. He stayed quiet for about twenty seconds before he leaned forward. His elbows on the table, he looked at Harper in interest. "Did you get into a fight? Is that why you have those bruises?"
A fork clanked down onto the plate as Lucas cleared his throat. But Cole didn't pay any attention as he eagerly awaited an answer. Harper could almost picture the wheels turning in his mind as his imagination devised many scenarios that answered his question.
"Uhm, no," she lied, shaking her head. She wasn't ready or willing to tell anyone about that traumatizing night at the Coopers. "It's really not that interesting. I fell. I'm kind of clumsy."
His face fell at what she said. Not because he wanted her to have been beaten up but because he was expecting a more interesting answer. "That's kinda lame," he agreed.
Harper laughed softly at his reaction. "I told you."
"So why are you in foster care?" Cole questioned.
"Cole, you shouldn't ask questions like that," Olivia scolded him, throwing an apologetic look Harper's way.
"Why not?" Cole asked with a shrug.
"Because," Olivia started, "it's a personal subject, and Harper might not want to discuss it."
"No, it's okay," Harper told them before looking Cole's way. "I lost both parents when I was about seven or eight. I didn't have anyone or anywhere to go, so they put me in foster care."
But the truth was, Harper only knew that her mom was dead. Whatever happened to her dad was a mystery. She'd only been four when he left but she remembered him and often wondered where he was. And why he never came back for her.
Slowly, Cole nodded as if he was processing her words. He frowned as he stared down at his food. "Sorry about your parents."
Olivia placed a hand over Harper's and squeezed gently. "It's hard to lose someone so close to you, especially when you're so young."
"Thanks," Harper said quietly.
"What's it like being a foster kid?" Cole asked a moment later, the rapid-fire game of twenty questions continuing.
Harper started to speak, unsure of how to answer that question. But before she could get any words out, Lucas interrupted, his words directed at his son.
"Enough with the questions," he said with a shake of his head.