• Chapter One

    Four years ago…

    I curled my nose as we pulled into the farm’s dirt driveway. The air smelled heavily of cow manure and hay- two scents that I was not familiar with, but soon would be. While my mother and father were in Chicago on trial, I would be staying here with my aunt Maggie in Brownsville.
    “Ok, Sammy. Me and Daddy will be gone for one month, ok?” she reminded me once again while handing me my things. I rolled my eyes and nodded. I was used to my parents going on leave for court, it happened a lot. But for some reason or another, I went from twelve to three in my mothers eyes.
    My father drummed his fingers impatiently off the dashboard. My mom turned to him, and continued, “We will call every day.”
    I said goodbye, then headed to the farmhouse, my parents’ car leaving behind a massive cloud of dust. Inside, my aunt seemed all but thrilled to see me. She remained silent, but pointed to a small room off the kitchen. My room. Then she handed me a partially inflated air mattress. I sprawled out on the makeshift bed, my things scattered in messy clusters all about the room, and slowly drifted to sleep.

    The next morning, after breakfast when my aunt came back inside she turned to me. She was coated in mud from head to toe. “Say, Samantha… I could really use a hand out there. How about you come along and help me clean up the stables or something?”
    I gawked at her. I had never actually done work before, my parents spoiled me (when they were home, that is). “What?”
    She scowled at me, thought a moment, then answered, “Sam… I am really sick and tired of Alex dumping you off here every time they get a case. I love that crazy man, but… Point is: They don’t pay me, and I know sure as hell that you don’t have a cent to your name. So if you’re going to be living in this house, you’re going to work for it.”
    Once I got the basics down, it took me under five minutes to make the stables spotless (well, as clean as stables get). My aunt was astonished. She sat for many minutes just staring. Then she started freaking out. Maggie asked me how I cleaned the stables that fast, and I told her that I was naturally fast. According to her, the job I just accomplished could not be done that quickly by a normal person.

    Later that night

    It was late, and just now I’d realized that my mom never called. When I started to worry, I tried to think positive.
    Maybe their plane was delayed.
    Maybe they were too exhausted from the long flight.
    I tried to relax myself, and somehow found a way to sleep.

    After what seemed to be only moments, I was abruptly awakened by my aunt’s decade old computer, screeching to life. I sensed Maggie tense up, and then she continued to type. She was on one of those sites where you could look them up and find more about your family and where you came from.
    A few minutes later, after several searches, I heard her groan. I came up behind her and looked at the screen. She first had looked up my parents. Every member of the family was there- except me. Then she had taken the opportunity to look up my name, and along the list were several people that all looked miraculously similar to myself: same light eyes, same pale skin, same dark brown hair, same sun-shaped birthmark. The majority of them lived in Virginia, however it did not give the town name.
    This was a very awkward moment for me, to discover that I was never truly related to Jane and Alex. I didn’t have the slightest clue as to who these people were, or how to find them. All I knew was that I didn’t belong here. Anywhere else. But not here.
    I turned and went for the door, Maggie grabbed my wrist. She asked where I was going and why. After about a ten minute explanation she nodded. I could go, but on one condition: I had to stay until my ‘parents’ got back. They deserved to know why I was leaving.
    I tried to sleep, unsuccessfully, until the morning sun began to break through the clouds. My morning was surprisingly normal- at first, until my aunt came out into the living room where I was watching the news, crying and clutching a newspaper. I cocked an eyebrow toward her, between sobs she handed me the paper and said, “Sam, I think you should see this…”
    I scanned the page, then my eyes rested at the obituaries. There, in black and white, were my ‘parents’ names, along with them a short paragraph that read:

    Jane and Alex Davis were killed on Tuesday, July 30th. The couple boarded a cab that morning, which crashed into a minivan and was crushed. The passengers in the other vehicle however, were not harmed.

    Many thoughts crossed their way through my mind. Even though they weren’t really my family didn’t mean I shouldn’t care…Right? They were more of a family than I’d ever had, that should count for something. I stared at that paragraph for many minutes, then looked up at Maggie’s face. Her eyes were bloodshot and the red hair that framed her face was soaked with tears, even though she stopped crying. She sighed and looked at me. She understood, I needed to go. I was no longer welcome. “Go ahead.”
    Before I left, my aunt gave me some money. “Take care of yourself.” she’d said. Then I took off running toward the sun that was setting on the mountain lined horizon.
    Chapter Two

    Three years later, somewhere near Victoria Virginia…

    It had been several years since I had left Maggie’s farm. I was now fifteen, and still had not found out much about my origins. All I knew is that my true family looked a lot like me, lived in Virginia somewhere, and had identical birthmarks. I looked down at the complex markings along my forearm and shook my head. If I were to actually find these people, it would be months, maybe even years before I did. Even when Virginia was a smaller state, there were thousands of people, and hundreds of miles to cover.
    I continued to walk forward, and a blue and red light began to flash in the distance, sounding an alarm. A sheriff pulled up next to me in his car and asked me my name.
    “Samantha.” I told him.

    He asked me my last name, I told him that I didn’t know what it was. The man seemed confused. I sighed and began to tell him about myself, “My adoptive parents, Jane and Alex Davis brought me to Maggie, who would be my aunt’s home in Brownsville so they could go to Chicago on a court case. A few days later I read in the news that they died. Online, I read that my real family lived somewhere in Virginia. So my aunt gave me some money, and I left.”

    I gave him a moment to contemplate all of this, after a minute he asked me some questions, “Brownsville, huh? In Texas? That’s over six hundred miles away from here. How did you get here?”
    “I walked.” I told him. He laughed, and asked how long I had been out on the road. “Three years.”
    He smirked, but then his face went serious. “You said your name was Davis?”
    “Was.” I explained, “Not anymore.”
    The sheriff gaped, “Those parents of yours were my sons lawyer, weren’t they? Three years back, that’s about the time my son went to court.”
    He told me that his son’s name was Tyler, and that he was sent to court because someone reported him for drug abuse. “Best lawyers there were, I’ll tell you that. But unfortunately, if you don’t have any parents, I’m going to have to take you to an orphanage…”
    “What!” I yelped. Hadn’t we just got done saying how my stepparents had saved his son from prosecution? You would think that maybe that might count for something in society, unfortunately not.
    He seemed troubled, “I don’t want to do this to you, but it’s the law. If you’re under eighteen you cant just go wandering around the streets without a guardian. That’s no way to live!”
    He took my arm and helped me into the car. Since I hadn’t exactly committed a crime I got to sit up front.
    There was an old house a few towns over from Victoria. “This is an orphanage?”
    He nodded and began to explain about it. Many orphans and runaways came to stay here. It acted as a safe haven to them.
    I didn’t think it was possible for something to look worse than the exterior of the orphanage until I saw the inside. The old wallpaper was covered in mold and was tearing at the corners, the carpet had holes and was spotted with dark stains of various unidentifiable substances, and the ceiling was crumbling away, bits of plaster drifting down every minute or so.
    A young woman with long blonde hair came out. She wore too much makeup. She waved to the sheriff then her gaze averted to me and she smiled and asked me my name. After a short discussion she asked the sheriff about my past.
    “This one’s a runaway,” he began, “Adoptive parents were killed, don’t know where the real ones are.”



    TO BE CONTINUED...