I walked slowly down the sidewalk. I didn’t exactly want to get back to the orphanage full of screaming kids and yelling adults. I loved this alone time that I always got when I walked home from school and always tried to savor it. It was the only alone time I got.

It took me an hour to get to the orphanage. On a good day, I could hurry home and be there in fifteen minutes.  Today was not a good day.  Mrs. Casper, our matron, was standing at the door, which was rather unusual for her. She only waited to get on to one of us. I braced myself to be yelled at.

    “Abbey!” she yelled. “Where have you been?”

    “Walking home from school, ma’am.”

    “I have news for you, Miss Glass.”
    I felt hopeful. “Yes, ma’am?”

    Mrs. Casper glanced at the paper in her hand. “You are to be adopted by a Mr. and Mrs. Robinson.”

    I let out an excited yell. “Thank you, Mrs. Casper!” I launched forward and wrapped my arms around the heavyset woman.

    Mrs. Casper let out an annoyed noise. “Your welcome, Miss Glass. Now, get off.” She disentangled herself from my hug. “Go pack as much as you can, except school clothes and what you need to get ready tomorrow and the next day. You will be expected to move into their house two days from now. Am I clear?”

    I nodded vigorously. “Yes, ma’am!”

    I hurried to the 14-16 year old girl’s room and leaped onto my bed. The bag that sat under my bed was pulled out and stuffed with my clothes, except for two outfits and a pair of pajamas. My only book, Chasing Vermeer, my hair brush, and my toothbrush and toothpaste sat out so I could use them.

    A dinner of dry hamburgers and the two hours of freetime, in which I spent reading, before bed rushed by in a blur. When I finally got into bed, my mind was hopping with excitement, and a touch of fear.

Finally, I was going to be adopted. Finally, someone wanted me. Finally, I would get into a home without thirty or more kids screaming day in and day out. Finally, I might actually be happy.

But what if these ‘Robinsons’ were not nice people. What if they were convicts and were adopting me to recruit me into their gang?

I knew some of these thoughts were insane, but I figured I had a right to be worried. No one had ever adopted me before, or even tried. I was sure not everyone got a good home.

I sighed and tried to sleep. I needed my energy if I were to meet my potential parents.