Chapter 1: I. Preface
(I want to thank Professor Schmermund, an English Professor at SUNY College at Old Westbury for helping me edit the preface and the first three chapters of this book.)
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I. Bonded
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A young man who appeared to be in his late twenties to very early thirties exited his car and stared at the blue building in front of him, a baby girl about a month old in a carrier seat. His hazel gray eyes stared at the building through gloomy gray clouds and felt the draft of a light wind as he sighed nervously. He looked back at his car one last time before slowly walking up to the front door, the ground above the stairs creaking with every step; he checked to make sure his baby girl didn't wake up before his final toddle. He stopped himself for a second, a tightness in his throat; he stood dazed until he got the courage to knock on the door. There was a young woman who stared back at him.
"Are you Ms. Campbell?"
"Yes, and you're the man that called me last night, I assume?"
The tall, dark-haired man nodded. He looked down at the baby girl who was now awake.
"She's tiny. How old is she?"
"Only a month old," said the young man.
"Why are you giving her away so young?"
The man began to cry, and Ms. Campbell stood back, shocked. "I have too. My wife is saying things about me, lying about me to everybody. She stole all our money; I thought differently of her. I can't give her to family, there's too much dispute, and I don't want my daughter growing up in a household where she doesn't feel like her family loves her or is working with her, or where people will be out to get her. I want her to be safe, to be loved. I can't do anything now, but someday, I'll come back."
She nodded. "I can tell this is hard for you. No parent has ever been so guilty to leave their child here, and I've taken thousands of kids' into care. Don't worry; I will not let anyone adopt her, if that's what you want," The man nodded. "How long will you be?"
"I want her to be old enough to know why I did all of this."
Ms. Campbell nodded. "Are you ready to hand her over?"
The man took the baby girl out of the holder and held her close to him. "I'm sorry, but this is the only way to keep you safe. I hope that when you find out the truth about everything, later on, you'll understand and forgive me."
He handed the baby over to Ms. Campbell, and right away, she began to cry. The man wiped his tears and stopped at the door, looking at his baby girl one last time before walking out and leaving. After, it started to rain, and the man slowly walked back to his beaten-down car, where the heavy rain showered him.
Ms. Campbell looked at the baby and smiled, "You're safe here. I know your father, he's a very nice man," she gave a small smile but began to frown when the baby calmed down.
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Later that day, when the rain shifted to a drizzle, the baby was fast asleep in a warm crib. Ms. Campbell smiled down at the sleeping baby; how well she slept, like an angel. She'd be easy to raise. The woman quietly closed the door and walked down the blue wall hallway, stickers of different characters over the walls. Ms. Campbell entered her office and saw that she had received an unread email. She sat down and looked at it, eyes widening at the content.
'Kendria,' the email read, the sender referring to Ms. Campbell by her first name. She knew who was contacting her, their email was long and confusing, 'it's been a while. I have contacted you for an inquiry about the child. You said that you'd have her by now and that my friend has put her in your care.'
Ms. Campbell's stomach turned. She answered back right away. 'Yes, she is here, asleep and well. I will try to take care of the best we can.'
She sent the email. Soon after, the sender replied before she could blink.
'Well, don't be too nice. You know Ivory's family's history; she will need to be prepared for her future.' She narrowed her eyes at the order, but said nothing about it; her heart racing at the demand. 'When she turns eighteen, you will hand her over by my friend's request. You will be paid to keep her information secure. No one but my other associates and me will know of her. You know the consequences. She is not to know anything about her parents or about me. She'll be informed the day after she is legal. If you tell her anything, you'll be punished, and you know how.'
Ms. Campbell gulped. 'Yes, I understand.'
She sent the last email and slowly walked down the hallway and peeked at the young baby, still asleep in her crib. Ms. Campbell lightly touched her head, and felt sorry for the child, but can only do what she was told. As long as the child was in her care, everything would be fine.
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It was July 31st, 2017, in Queens, New York —the sun began to dim down on a chilly New York evening. The buildings before it started to darken and disappear from view; no light was needed. Two girls were in their room, getting ready to go to bed, prepared to live another dull, trapped day at the secluded foster home.
The first girl was Ivory McKay. She just turned seventeen. Viper, her best friend, whom she met at their foster home when they were four, was born three months after, making her birthday land on September 23rd. Ever since their first encounter, they've always been by each other's side.
When a person sees or hears about an orphan, the first thing on their mind or the first question they'll ask is what happened to their parents. Not every orphan knows; sometimes, the social worker, the foster care owners, or the foster parents can lie to keep it a secret; or maybe they didn't know themselves.
There were different sections of the foster home: the first was for kids under four, the second was for kids aged five to ten, the third was eleven to fourteen, and the last was for anyone fifteen to eighteen. The homes formed a massive square on a big set of land; each house had a color. Section one was blue, two was purple, three was green, and four was a dull yellow, which was how the employees distribute paperwork and could quickly tell who was in which section.
During the day, the orphans wore shirts according to the colors of their section. It was mandatory for everyone to also wear a name tag with a number, not a name so that everyone knew who they were. The number accessed their files, so if anyone broke a rule and got in trouble, the employees could look up their number and name and write down the action in their record.
When Ivory was ten, she questioned Ms. Campbell of her parent's whereabouts and what happened to them.
"Your mother died of something; no one knows what. It was about two years after you were born. No one knows about the father. There are people who say he left, and there are others that say your mother had a problem and left him, never being faithful to anyone. You can guess the rest, can you?"
Many will even wonder why these two girls were still in a foster home. Viper had been with other families, but there was always a disconnection, the disconnection that her biological parents didn't want her. An unrelated family would try to give them love, but something still went wrong. The families were usually abusive in some way, or too strict. The other kids who were adopted always ran away from their foster parents, suffering abandonment and emotional detachment and emotional abuse in the long run. Nothing bothered any of the kids unless it was something traumatizing.
Ivory didn't know anything about her parents, but the picture she had of them was on their wedding day. Ivory can say that she resembled her father a lot but can tell that she got blessed with her mom's hair color. The first day she came to the foster home, she was young and didn't speak to anyone but Viper. They instantly clicked, mostly because they agreed on most things. The two girls shared a room, away from everyone else, because they didn't want to be around the other orphans. The wall was white, with a room that consisted of two closets and dressers, a bathroom, and two beds about two feet away from each other.
The only misfortune was that they will be eighteen next year: the legal age. The two won't be discharged unless they leave by themselves. The two were thinking of running away because there was nothing for them at the foster home. They'll be kicked out, so why not get a head start?
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