* * *
“I knew it, Mom, I knew it,” Nora shouted as she entered the living room.
“Knew what, dear?” her surprised mother asked, looking up from her writing. “What happened in school?”
“This is gonna destroy my life,” Nora cried, turning from the first step up to her room. “It’s everywhere in town. I can’t even live here anymore.”
“Calm down, Nora. You’re freaking me out,” her mother ordered, standing up. “It hurts me more than you’ll ever know, dear, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“We can move again, Mom,” Stephanie suggested at the door, looking tired and edgy. She wasn’t crying, but her mother’s heart still went out to her.
“Oh, baby. Come here, my sweet.” The little girl eagerly ran into her mother’s open arms.
“We cannot do that, Steph,” Matthew said behind his younger foster sister. “It will all go away in a few days, I promise.”
“You stay away from me,” Nora growled, pointing at him. “Don’t you ever come an inch near me.”
“I need my book back,” Matthew told her. “You never paid for it, yourself.”
“And you think I care now for that . . . miserly scrap of junk?” she returned. “I just lost Leonard because of you and all you can tell me is to give you back that . . . crap?”
Her mother turned to her. “Oh, Nora,” she softly whispered.
“Well, take it, anyway,” her daughter continued. “You’ve already ruined my life, you . . . outcast.”
And she ran up to her room.
This time, Matthew did not cry.
He’d found another misfit.
“Nora is calling Matthew names, Mom,” Stephanie pointed out, tugging her mother by the hand. “She deserves to miss dinner.”
“She’s just angry, Steph,” Lora said, drawing Matthew to herself. “You know you must forgive her, don’t you, Matthew?” Her adopted son said nothing, prompting her to continue. “And what’s with this . . . book, anyway?”
“Nothing, Mom,” Matthew replied, feeling hurt and angry. “It’s about that book I found in the attic and gave to her.”
“Mom, Matthew fought today,” Stephanie began.
“What?”