always f

orphanage stayed gray and damp, like the building itself didn't know how to feel warmth. The stone walls wer

tant. Of fire that burned orange and yellow against a dark sky. Of broken glass scattered across wet pavement. Of a woman's voice singing softly, wor

y, I reme

tle when they looked at me. The one who held my hand in the hospital when I was scared and confused

n he spoke to me, it was different. Softer. Like he was try

ait

wa

rough a broken cup. Slow a

Halden used to scream and yank at it. Her fingers would dig into my skin, trying to

take away my dinner or lock me in the

nes where she'd pulled too hard. But I didn't car

girls were asleep and the hallways were quiet. The picture inside was half-burned a

a baby that was me. Both of us smiling in a worl

self that the man from the car, the man who saved me, was just a dream. That maybe my brain had made him up

nside me never

e was manageable if

swer back when the staff yelled at you, even when they were wrong. Don't stand out too much or

wouldn't say the wrong thing. Fight if you had to, but only when no adults were l

gritted teeth when visitors came through, pretending we were all happy and grateful. I lea

rdened by years of disappointment. They'd stopped believing anyone would want them. The

it with the little ones, telling them stories I half remembered or complet

heir pain started feeling like my pain

e as mean. She said I thought I was better than everyone else because I wore a locket. B

think I w

t. A promise. A memory of someo

ith every year that passed. Even if I start

hen I was ten

ly s

my whole body ache. Fever that burned through me like fire.

one minute and freezing the next. I couldn't keep food down.

awful and told me to rest. They put me in the sick room, which was just

her people's sickness, staring at the window while snow fell outside. Big fat flake

ng to die," I wh

. Part of me hoped someone would h

didn

ever broke after five days, leav

side me. Like whatever had broken in me during those sick days had started rebuilding

on, I stop

tely. But

good at p

nding I didn't flinch when one of the guards slammed his fist on the table during din

be fierce when I had to be. I learned that surviving was som

dark and the sound of distant sobs from th

e it could hear me across wh

my mother's burned and blurry

st shadows through the barred windows, I'd imagine t

got forgotten all the time. Prom

first place. Maybe it was just something

n't forgo

e cold walls and cruel words couldn't reach,