The Silence She Speaks✔

Nine-Lady

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. A tall boy answered it. His hair was dirty blonde, and his eyes were a beautiful blue. He was muscled, but didn't look like he had any brains. I think it was really the fact that he held a paper in his hand that had thirty percent and a frowny face written in red pen.

"What can I do for you?" The boy asked.

"My name is Debra Parker, I'm Quinn's social worker," I said in a very professional tone.

"Oh, come in," the boy smiled sweetly. He moved to the side and motioned me in. I walked around for a moment. The house was big and very well kept.

"Oh, Debra, is that you?" A familiar voice asked. It was Chelsea. She smiled widely and gave me a hug. "I didn't expect you here so soon. Here, I'll go and get Quinn for you. Or do you want to talk to her in private?"

"Private would be nice," I said. "It's okay if we can't though, I know that you have a very busy home."

"Oh it's nothing," Chelsea smiled. "Come, I'll take you to Quinn's room."

I nodded and followed Chelsea up the stairs. She opened a door and led me inside. Quinn was lying on the floor. She had her nose stuck in a book, completely absorbed in the story. Her face showed excitement, even if she didn't smile. She was getting better, and that made me proud. Like a mother who's baby just took their first steps.

"Quinn, sweetie," Chelsea said calmly. "Mrs. Parker would like to have a chat with you."

Quinn looked up and gasped. She stood up and threw her arms around me. I smiled and stroked her hair as she hugged me. We hadn't seen each other since Chelsea and Ben took her home from the hospital.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Chelsea whispered. She walked out of the room and closed the door softly.

I detached myself from Quinn and held her shoulders as I spoke to her, "Can I ask you some questions?" She nodded. "Okay, why don't we sit down and talk?" She nodded again.

Quinn sat on her bed, her legs crossed, and I pulled her desk chair over and sat. Quinn grabbed her notepad and pencil and got ready to write.

"So, Quinn, tell me how things have been," I began.

"The Foster Lady is very kind, and so is her husband," Quinn wrote. "Their sons are really nice to me and always look out for me. Mason walks me from class to class so I don't get lost. You'd be surprised at how big the school is."

"Oh yeah?" I laughed. "How big is it?"

"It's every single grade all mashed into one school. Just picture three schools put together and viola, you have the school I go to," Quinn wrote out. "And you won't believe how big the library is! It's two stories high, and it has this grand staircase, and it's just so beautiful!"

"I'm glad to hear that you like it," I smiled. "What about friends, have you made any yet?"

"Yeah," she wrote. "All of the kids in my home room seem to like me. And the art room kids do too. They're all confused on what I'm doing for my project though. They all came up with different stories for it, but none of them know what it really represents."

"Oh, and what does it really represent?" I asked.

"It's a secret," she wrote.

"A secret project, huh?" I laughed. "Well, will you show it to me when you're done?"

"I'll have to take a picture, I'm doing it in chalk."

"Oh my, is it difficult that way?"

"A little bit, but it's super fun. My last teacher would have never let me do half of the stuff that the art man does."