Page 2 of Finding Secrets

I can’t help but keep my eyes on him. He slips his hands in his black pants pockets. He is wearing clothes just as nice and pretty as the man and woman are. He looks over my foster home.

His blue eyes look at me. They look like glaciers. I duck under the window frame, hoping he didn’t see me. And if he did, I hope he doesn’t tell my foster mom. She will be mad if she finds out I was out of the closet while visitors are here.

I crawl back to my mattress, sit down, and hug my knees to my chest.

I am scared.

I can hear a knock on the front door.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Donovan,” my foster mom says when she lets them in.

Her voice is squeaky, with that fake, cheerful voice she always uses in front of guests.

My throat starts to hurt, and I swallow, but it only makes it hurt more. I don’t know why I am feeling sad. I know that visitors don’t get to see me. I think maybe it’s because I feel left out. I won’t get to leave here and find a new mommy and daddy if they won’t let me see visitors.

Their voices are hard to hear now.

I close my eyes. I bet they will find the perfect daughter to adopt from the other girls in the house. And why wouldn’t they? They are all so pretty. They are allowed to leave their rooms for more than just TV time, where I would have to sit on my foster dad’s lap. They have a better chance of being adopted than me. Poor little me, the little girl with a ragged T-shirt for clothes and matted hair.

The burning in my eyes doesn’t stop, and when I try to blink it away, the tears fall down my cheeks. I wipe them away just as fast.

I don’t know how much time has passed when a voice jolts me back farther into the closet wall.

“Hello there.”

His voice cuts through me, and I take a deep breath.

The boy I saw outside is standing in the doorway of my foster parent’s room. Even more beautiful close up.

He shouldn’t be in here. He is going to get in trouble with them.

I put my hand up, silently telling him to stop, shaking my head at him.Go, please,I mouth to him.

He doesn’t listen, walking closer to me. As if he has been in this room a million times.

He gets on his knees in front of me. “I’m Samuel.” He gives a smile that makes me feel safe, but I don’t say anything. “What’s your name?”

I open my mouth to tell him, but I am scared. “El-Elliott.”

He touches my chin, making me look at him. “How old are you?”

His eyes are such a clear blue I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to.

“Ten,” I answer quietly, “and a half.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “Cute . . .”

“How old are you?” I ask, watching his smile get bigger.

“Me? I’m fifteen.” He looks over my face, his fingers taking a strand of blonde from my messy hair. “They treating you okay here?” He scans around the room for a second, then looks at me again.

“Y-Yes.”

His eyes stare at me. I think he knows I am lying.

“Don’t lie to me. If this relationship is gonna work, I need you to be honest with me. I need you to trust me.”

He is stunning, even when he looks like he wants to burn this whole house down. I shouldn’t have let this thought cross my mind but... I want someone like this in my life. I want to have someone protect me. I want to call him my big brother.

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