Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
A car moving up the hill caught his attention, and he watched it as it drove toward the hospital gates. He saw a head of dark, silken waves through the back window. Was it her? Where was she going? Alarm ricocheted through him, and he moved quickly to the chain-link fence separating this facility from the other one, grasping it with his fingers, staring out, watching as that car drove through the gates and turned out of sight.
Gone.
Chapter Ten
The mailbox in front of the small yellow house that backed up to thick, fall-hued woods spelled out the name Clancy in peel-off reflective letters.
Bill Clancy. That was the name the social worker who had driven her here had said belonged to the man who’d agreed to foster her.
Autumn liked to consider herself at least moderately brave. Life had dealt her a crap hand, and she’d accepted it with as much grace and fortitude as she’d been able. She’d suffered pain, both emotional and physical. She’d been lonely, mourned people she’d loved, and endured circumstances that most others, even if they lived to the ripe age of ninety, never would. But now? Now she was terrified.
“Here we are, Ms. Sterling,” the social worker said cheerily.
What’s her name again? Before attempting to remember, Autumn dismissed it. What does it matter? She only drove me here. I won’t see her again after this. A deep shiver went through Autumn as the car came to a stop and she waited as the social worker got out of the vehicle, coming around and opening the back door as though she were a child.
I feel like a child. A child who’s about to be abandoned. Again. She’d had less than two hours to adjust as her entire world was flipped upside down. Fifteen minutes to hug those who meant the most to her, to try to manage the slew of emotions rising and falling inside as her friends both cried and celebrated, squeezing her as tightly as their weak, emaciated bodies allowed and then standing in the hospital doorway, waving as her car drove away, leaving behind everything familiar to her.
The social worker had had the emotional awareness not to attempt small talk. Either that or she really didn’t care to have a conversation with a fourteen-year-old girl. Autumn wouldn’t have been able to manage it anyway, her throat clogged with tears, her mind spinning with thoughts and fears and too many questions to attempt to arrange or put into coherent language.
She stepped from the car. The air smelled clean and fresh, with the slight bite of woodsy chill. Mercy Hospital was right outside New York City, but even removed, it hadn’t smelled like this. The hint of city exhaust from cars and factories and people living right on top of one another was always there. She hadn’t realized that until now.
A man appeared in the doorway, stepping out onto the porch and stuffing his hands in his pockets. He wore a pair of jeans and a red-and-black flannel shirt. He had to be at least fifty, with a short graying beard. He watched as the social worker guided Autumn up the gravel pathway to the base of the short porch.
The man smiled, but only slightly. He appeared nervous, uncertain, and for whatever reason, that impression allowed Autumn to take a full breath. “Hi, Autumn. I’m Bill.”
She stepped slowly up the two steps but stayed at the edge of the porch. “Hi,” she said, and she was proud that her voice didn’t tremble.
The woman behind her cleared her throat. “Well, I wish I could stay as you two get acquainted, but unfortunately, I have a long drive back.”
She bustled up the stairs and there was some hand shaking, fleeting smiles, and wishes for luck. And then she was right back down the stairs and heading to the car seemingly as quickly as possible, hopping inside and backing out of the driveway. Autumn watched as the woman’s brake lights disappeared around the bend, her mind surely moving swiftly from the skinny orphan girl she’d just dropped off on to her own lists and plans and other personal worries.
Autumn was well and truly alone. With…the gentleman.
She turned back toward Bill. He gave her an awkward smile, moving from one foot to the other. “You must be hungry,” he said.
She shook her head. She’d throw up if she ate anything right now. “No. Thank you.”
He frowned, smoothing his mustache, looking confused as though his one solid plan had just crumbled to dust and he didn’t have another.
“I could drink something,” she offered.
His face lit up. He smiled, and Autumn could see that he was handsome. For an old man. “Great. Yes. I have drinks.” He waved his hand, indicating she should enter the house, and picked up the suitcase containing all her worldly possessions. Now minus the thing most dear to her, her journal—her thoughts and fears set to words—which had been lost in the woods.