Part One
Olivia
1
Olivia—Aged 7
Mommyholdsmyhandas I bounce on my sparkly pink dolly shoes excitedly. The airport is very noisy from all the people rushing around, crowds running with their suitcases ready to go on the big plane!
“Is he here yet?” I ask with a huge grin, pulling Mommy’s hand and bouncing some more.
“Not yet, sweetie,” she replies, glancing at my daddy. He doesn’t seem as excited as me and Mommy, but I did overhear them talking this morning, and he’s looking forward to finally meeting him.
My new brother. He’s a year older than me, and from what I heard by listening in to my parents, he’s been abused, a word they used when they adopted me too.
Daddy places a hand on top of my head to stop me from jumping up and down. He doesn’t like it when I do that. He usually hits my butt then sends me to my room.
“Stop being erratic. Do you promise to be on your best behavior, angel?”
I nod enthusiastically and grin, raising my pinkie. “I promise.”
He doesn’t hook his pinkie with mine, and I drop my hand and pout.
But then my mommy squeals and leans down to me. “Sweetie, this is your new brother. Remember when me and Daddy rescued you from that evil place? We rescued him too!”
A boy walks towards us with a plastic bag—where is his suitcase? He’s taller than me, with black hair and the bluest eyes—like the color of my favorite doll’s hair.
The lady holding his hand rolls her eyes and mouths, “Good luck,” to Mommy then hands some papers to Daddy. “Sign all of these. The last page is about his therapist—please keep that one and scan it over once you’ve read it all and agree for him to attend each session.”
Daddy huffs. “Are you sure about this? Have you considered his report?”
He’s looking at Mommy, who narrows her eyes at him. “Yes, Jamieson. You’re the one who showed me his case in the first place, so either put a smile on your face or I’ll do this myself.”
Daddy smiles.
I flap the tulle of the princess dress I wore to surprise him. I want him to be as happy as I am, but he isn’t grinning or clapping like me. He looks… sad. Mommy said I cheer her up when I talk to her, so I step forward.
“Hi!” I say with a huge smile. “My name is Olivia. I’m seven!” I hold up seven fingers. “Do you think I look like a princess?” I gesture to my dress.
The boy stares at me, taking one step closer, making me look up at him. He’s like the fireman who took me out the burning house—a big, walking, human tower!
Why isn’t he saying hello? Doesn’t he like my dress?
Instead of speaking, he tilts his head a little—watching me.
My smile drops. “You don’t like my dress?” It has pink sparkles to match the ribbons in my hair. Mommy even let me wear some of her juicy lip gloss to make my lips sparkle like twinkling stars.
He does something with his hands, and I narrow my eyes then look at Mommy. She’s talking to the lady, and my daddy is writing on pieces of paper. I turn to the boy, and he does the thing with his hands again.
“Was it scary on the plane? I always cry when it goes really fast and shoots off into the sky! Daddy always makes us go on one. He’s your daddy now too!”
He just stares at me, lifting his hand to the back of his neck then messing up his curly black hair.
I go to turn to my parents again and gasp when the boy takes my wrist, making my eyes snap back at him. He’s moving his hands again, and I blink at him.
Confused, I tilt my head like he did a minute ago, making my brown hair cover my eyes.
He points to the revolving doors then offers me his hand. Mommy and Daddy are still talking to the lady, so I let him take my hand, and we run towards the door. Maybe he wants to play hide-and-seek? I’m really good at finding great hiding places.