Page 114 of The Glass Girl

Fran nods.

“We better take these out,” I tell her, pointing to trays of sandwiches and salads and fruits.

“Your wish is my command,” Fran says, swooping up a tray of sandwiches and disappearing out the double doors. I follow her with the cart of drink coolers.

As I’m setting the coolers and cups on a table, I peek at everyone.

Brandy is sitting with an elderly woman with gray hair in a bun and a concerned look on her face. They aren’t talking. Brandy isn’t eating. I didn’t picture her mom that way at all, the way Brandy’s been describing her. That seems weird. At the end of another table, Josh looks miserable, sandwiched between a tall blond woman and a surly man. They’re peering suspiciously at their sandwiches. I look around for Holly, but I don’t see her. Maybe she’s giving her fosters a tour. I don’t see Gideon, either.

I busy myself setting out extra cups. If my parents had come, I can picture what would have happened, can hear what they would’ve said. My mother would be sad but hopeful, and my dad would probably be critical of the food, or the dumpy quality of the place, and then my mom would say,Well, why didn’t you look for the place, then? You made me do all the research,and then he’d say,Well, I didn’t want her to be here in the first place and—

I stop. Take a breath.

I didn’t want them here and they aren’t. So I’m not going to think about what might have been. I don’t need them in my head right now.

—

After Chuck and I clean up from lunch, I walk back to our room. On the way, I look into the activity room. Josh is playing chess with his mom while his dad looks at his phone. Gideon is there with a bearded guy. Brother? Too young to be her dad. They’re at the table closest to the door and they’re both wearing the same kind of blue sneakers, which seems weird, but okay.

Holly is at a table in the far corner, drawing, alone.

I hope her people come soon.

—

In our room, Charlotte is asleep, curled into a ball.

I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

That’s what I’m doing when Brandy comes in and hurls herself on her bed.

I look over at her. “You’re back early. It was nice your mom—grandma?—came.”

Her eyes burn. “That wasnotmy grandmother. Or my mom. That wasMary,our maid. My mother went to Cabo. Like I told you, I’m nothing to her. I made Mary leave, even though we still have time.”

Her voice wavers. She takes off her sneakers and throws them against the wall.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Whatever,” she says. Then she sighs. “Sometimes I get my hopes up that she’s going to start to care. It’s good to be reminded yet again that she never will.”

She flops onto her side and closes her eyes, her mouth trembling.

Gideon walks into the room slowly and sits down on her bed. Folds her hands in her lap.

“Are you okay?” I ask. “You don’t look well.”

She raises her eyes to me, only I feel like she isn’t looking at me but through me.

“Gideon?” I ask.

She snaps to. “Sorry. I’m just…tired. My cousin tires me out. But at least someone came, right?”

She slides off her blue sneakers. Holds them in her hands and looks at them for a long time.

“Gideon?” I ask again. “Are yousureyou’re okay?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Totally fine. I was just thinking I need to get a new pair of sneakers when I get out of here. These are getting kind of ratty. Don’t know where I’ll get the money, though.”

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