COMING HOME - A Cameron Boyce Love Story

1: ada.

Slinging her purse onto her shoulder and grabbing her keys off the hook, Libby Boyce quietly walked out of her house, careful not to wake her sleeping children. Her husband Victor followed her, standing on the porch as she got into her car to see her off during the early morning.

At around 5 AM, Libby had gotten a call from one of her caseworkers that worked in her office. One of the kids that Libby had been working on had been assaulted in the night, and needed to be urgently placed into a home.

This caught Libby off guard, considering that the girl wasn't supposed to be placed with a different group home until later in the month. She knew that the day ahead of her would be spent frantically trying to find somewhere to place the girl.

She got to her building and scanned the hallways as she tried to figure out which office she was supposed to be meeting in. She looked through the glass paned wall of one of them and saw Abby, one of the case managers that she was partnered with, sitting next to and trying to comfort a young girl beside her. Libby walked in, and exchanged quiet 'hellos' with Abby. She grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it up so she that she could be closer to them.

"Hi, Ada? I'm Libby."

The girl kept her head down, looking at her lap. Abby rubbed the girl's hand, smiling softly at Libby.

"Ada, this is my partner Libby, she's been helping me to place you into a different home," Abby spoke softly to her.

"Yes, I have. It's great to finally meet you Ada," Libby said, trying to see if the girl would look up at her. When that failed, Libby softly smiled and beckoned with a head nod for Abby to come into the hall with her.

"We'll be right in the hall, okay Ada?" Abby assured as the two women went into the hall while Ada sat without acknowledging their absence, her eyes glued to the floor.

"So, I know we were holding off on placing her in that group home in the south, but she's not going to be able to make it until then. This is the third time this week she has been hurt in that home," Abby said, shaking her head as she glanced through the glass at the traumatized girl.

"Who is doing it? The kids or the owners? Because I think we really need to start looking furth-"

"Well, he claims that it's the kids, but I honestly think it's him and the kids doing this to her. Last week when I went to visit her she had cigarette burns on her thighs. She also seems to have a hurt ankle, she's limping everywhere. I asked Robert what happened and he said she slipped on the stairs." Abby explained, shaking her head.

"Well did you ask her what happened? Did she say it was the kids or Robert?"

"Well, see Ada doesn't talk. Well, she doesn't talk to me at least. I think she has trouble speaking, probably from past trauma...or current trauma. Selective mutism. But the other problem is her birthday just passed, and she's 18, which means she won't be able to go to any foster homes. That group home in South L.A. was the last one that would take her, at least until she turns 19. So I don't know what we can do for her."

Libby looked back through the glass, getting to finally see the girl's face. Her eye was bruised, and her face dirty. Tears were covering her little brown face, and something turned in Libby's stomach. She thought about her daughter, Maya, and how she couldn't take even picturing something like this happening to her child.

Without a second thought, Libby looked Abby in the eyes as she took a deep breath.

"I'll take her. She can come stay with me."

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It was 8 AM in the Boyce household and Victor sat with his phone in his lap, thinking about the phone call that he just got from his wife. Libby had decided that she would be bringing one of the teens that she works with home with her, and it's safe to say that he was completely caught off guard.