Forty-Four | Hamilton Estate

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SOTC: Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

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"Ashley?"

Five days later, this would be the gentle voice saying of my name after three knocks. It was a saying that had continuously gone unanswered by someone who deliberately continued to rot in their bed the last five days. Five days since what Principal Turner called an "unfortunate incident" on his grounds as he unenrolled that someone from West High School.

Yes, that would be me. Duh.

However, it was the owner of that gentle voice who'd left every home cooked meal at my bedroom door with a small side of NyQuil for when I could sleep for those five days. This routine was promised by a note slid under the door five days ago, which informed me that I only needed to acknowledge her presence once I was ready to do so.

Fast forward to today, I'd finally gathered myself enough to answer that voice with a, "Come in."

That's when Belle revealed herself with the turn of the doorknob, her white beach dress ever so still. We stared at each other for what felt like a thousand seconds in my mind's eye until Belle spoke.

"Want a hug?"

I nodded, and she came to my bed with open arms, which my body took to complete the short yet fulfilling embrace. She pulled away moments later to stroke my hair with a gentler smile, and I imagined my heart as a little torn paper mending slightly at the sides with each of her touches. Never repaired, but well... I don't know. Something just felt better.

"How are you?" I asked with a slight croak. The sole reason for my voice not resembling a complete frog was the few times I mumbled songs throughout the five days. Nothing resembling Romantic Homicide, but more like Hotel Room Service and Party Rock Anthem. It was those types of songs that I could focus on the funny choruses of rather than the numbness I got singing them.

Anyways, Belle quietly laughed, "It seems you beat me to my next question." She paused. "But, you know, another day, another life. I find reasons to be grateful for mine every day through... things."

"Belle..." I started.

"There's something I need to discuss with you," she confessed a millisecond later.

I nodded.

Her hand shielded her mouth from my view, her fingers frozen on her cheek until she continued, "Ashley, do you know where the Hamilton Estates are?"

"Maybe," I muttered after a pause, recalling a brief time I might've driven past an area of a similar name. "Why?"

She continued. "It's a neighborhood like the one you lived in while you went to Mother Teresa. It feeds into one of the most prestigious private schools in the country. The school recently changed its name to St. Augustine, and their fundraisers and clubs have made it to national news countless times, and even more so for their gifted students."

Oh. That school. The future valedictorians of Mother Teresa transferred mid year to go there, even going so far as to move into Hamilton Estate just to attend. As for Hamilton Estate itself, my recollection of the neighborhood came back in full force and detail; I used to drive past it on my way to the grocery store. Even I found myself impressed with the futuristic exteriors of their mansions in those days.

And that's when Belle said, "There's a family there that wants to adopt you."

"What?" I whispered.

"Mr. and Mrs. Klein. They're parents to two girls attending Harvard, but they visit frequently. Both of them heard of your academic achievements in the honor roll paper last year. I got a phone call from Mrs. Klein specifically last week. She and her husband had been tracking you down extensively until they got my phone number. They asked what you were like, and I told them you were a wonderful kid. Apparently one of their family friend's sons used to work with you at your job, which confirmed what I'd said about you. They were thrilled."

"Oh my god," I whispered.

"They know of your other records, Ashley, but they told me that if you stay out of trouble, they're willing to let you live with them as soon as they can get you. And um..." With a shaking breath, she smiled and said, "They're open to full adoption of you."

All I could do was stare at her, breathing in and breathing out, registering it all over and over until it stuck.

"I think you know my next question, Ashley."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Yeah, I do."

Are you ready for the last three chapters?

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