Faith (Book Two)

Chapter One

Chapter One

"Faith, I know you are in there, open the door so we can talk!"

"Faith, please this is an amazing opportunity for you, I just want to talk."

"Faith, please, I'm just trying to look out for you," his voice continues.

I debate opening the door heavily, I already know where this conversation is going, and I am not interested. But that never stops him from trying to help me anyway. Letting out an inaudible sigh, I hop off my small cot. Throwing the door open the light blinds me and I can't help but put a hand in front of my face. Once my eyes finally adjust to the light, I look up at the incredibly tall man before me. He stands over six-foot, which is massive compared to my five-foot-nothing frame, and his deep brown skin emanates warmth. His hair is always braided back anymore, and it suits his professional, yet somehow always relaxed manner.

"Let's go for a walk," he says gesturing for me to follow. Shaking my head at his retreating figure, I silently follow him.

Leaving the house that I am currently living in, I follow him silently to wherever he wants to go. We arrive at a small coffee shop a few streets away and he orders us both coffee and drops a packet of sugar in both. He pulls out a tablet of paper and a pen and hands it over to me. He never visits me without it, ever since the first time he met me.

"Faith, I've found a couple who wants to foster you, and eventually adopt," Nolan says excitedly, and I just make a face, here we go again.

"I know you've been pretty resistant, but they have fostered quite a few teenagers before, and all of the kids they have fostered they have adopted. I've personally already met them over multiple conference calls, and I think you would really like them," he continues, and I just let out an annoyed huff.

I hate it when he tries to do this. He always tries to find me a place to live and a family that will accommodate me, but the truth is most people just can't deal with the fact that I won't talk. They can't figure me out and eventually send me back. This has happened three times already and I've only been in the foster care system for four years. I know that he genuinely means well and wants me to find a forever home, but I know that will never happen.

"Faith, please write something," he says, and I give him an annoyed look and he just shakes his head at me.

"I have set up a meeting with them tomorrow afternoon, they are flying across the country to meet you," he says, and I grit my teeth. Snatching the tablet off of the tablet, I write furiously, almost breaking the tip of the pen.

'You didn't even ask me before you had complete strangers fly across the country?!' I write and I stand slightly to shove the tablet in his face.

"Yes," he says not at all fazed by my sudden outburst on the page.

I throw my hands up in the air and sit back down in my seat frustrated. We both sip on our coffee in a silence that is deafening. Looking across the table at the man who works for the state I reflect on how in the countries eyes I am still a child, especially considering I am only fifteen. The irony of what they have done to me, and yet I am still a ward of the state is not lost on me.

"You cannot honestly tell me that you are happy living in that broom closet? These people have a huge apartment in New York and would not hurt a fly. They can set you up in one of the best high schools and help you go to any college that you want," he says, and I purse my lips.

Every time I move, go to a new school, do anything that requires paperwork I am attracting more attention to myself. I run the risk of being found again and that is the last thing I want. I just want to turn eighteen and then flee to a country with no extradition. I want to go somewhere where they can never get a hold of me again. Falling off the face of the Earth would certainly be preferred, isn't that what every teenager wants nowadays?