A house that isn’t a home

Evening folded itself over the horizon as Amy and Chloe were led down the narrow hallway of their new foster home. The air was thick with cinnamon and laundry soap, trying too hard to feel comforting. Family photos lined the walls—smiling faces, frozen moments of happiness—each one quietly reminding Amy that she didn't belong in any of them.

It felt like walking through a museum of someone else's life.

Her eyes caught one photo in particular: a baby Jamie sitting in a cot, wrapped in a blue blanket, grinning at the camera. Proof that this place had history long before she and Chloe arrived.

Mrs. Carter's voice was warm but careful, like she was afraid of saying the wrong thing. "This is your room for now. You can decorate it however you like. If you need anything, just ask."

The bedroom was small but bright, overlooking the garden where they'd played earlier. Two twin beds faced each other, each covered with a patchwork quilt. Between them sat a vase of daisies. Thoughtful. Intentional. A welcome that felt rehearsed.

"Thank you," Amy whispered.

Mrs. Carter squeezed her shoulder gently. "Dinner's at six. We eat together."

When the door closed behind her, Chloe flopped onto her bed, blonde hair spilling across the pillow like she'd given up holding herself together for the night. She pulled her phone from her bag, scrolling fast, searching for something—anything—to anchor herself.

"Hey," Chloe said suddenly. "I just found that new arcade. The one that opened a few weeks ago, the one that mum said she would take us to."

Amy perched on the edge of her bed and managed a faint smile. "Yeah. That's nice."

But as she unpacked, her fingers brushed against the photograph tucked safely away. The ache came instantly—sharp and familiar. Loss didn't knock anymore. It just walked straight in.

Chloe noticed, of course. She always did.

"You're still carrying that?" she asked quietly.

Amy nodded. "I just... I don't want to forget."

Chloe's expression softened. "You won't. Mum's still here. Just... different."

Amy didn't answer. She slid the photograph into the top drawer of the bedside table and closed it carefully, like sealing something sacred away before turning to face Chloe. Before looking straight back to the draw that contained the picture.

"I just wish my mind could remember back then."

Dinner felt strange. Too normal.

The polished table, mismatched plates, the scrape of chairs—it all felt oddly human, like a family pretending this wasn't their first night together. Jamie sat across from Amy, hunched over his mashed potatoes, stealing glances he thought she didn't notice.

"Jamie," Mrs. Carter said casually, "have you told the girls about wanting to help kids who've been through difficult things?"

Amy looked up, surprised, and smiled before dropping her gaze again. Jamie froze. Then, cheeks burning, he slid down in his chair, mortified.

"Mum, why would you mention that?"

It was strange—but comforting—that Mrs. Carter spoke to them like they'd always belonged here.

After dinner, Mrs. Carter agreed to a film. Hugo, loud and confident where Jamie was quiet, bombarded Chloe with questions about school and football. Chloe answered eagerly, her voice filling the space.

Amy picked at her food, the clink of cutlery grating on her nerves. Panic hovered just beneath her skin. She counted her breaths.

Mrs. Carter noticed. "You don't have to finish, love. Adjusting takes time."

"Thank you," Amy murmured.

Jamie caught her eye then. Concern flickered across his face, something familiar in his gaze that made her heart stumble.

Was it really him after all these years?

The film started—a comedy Chloe chose. For a moment, Amy laughed without thinking. The sound surprised her.

Then the knock came.

Mrs. Carter frowned. "Jamie, Kelsey's here."

The name hit Amy like ice water.

Jamie groaned. "Now?"

"She needs a sweatshirt," Mrs. Carter said. "Keep it quick."

Amy's stomach twisted. She stared at the black screen of the TV as Kelsey's voice cut through the room—sharp, confident, edged with mockery.

"Didn't think I'd have to come all this way for a sweatshirt."

Amy looked up despite herself.

Kelsey stood by the door, red hair perfect, school skirt pushed just far enough to break rules. Her eyes landed on Amy and lit up.

"Well," Kelsey smirked, "if it isn't little Amy Thompson."

Jamie shot her a warning look. "Kelsey. Don't."

"What?" she said sweetly. "I'm just saying hi."

Amy's throat tightened. "Hi," she managed.

Kelsey's gaze flicked to Amy's pink-tipped hair. "Still doing the candy look? Cute."

The word cute sliced deeper than an insult ever could. Amy's chest tightened. Her breath shortened.

Mrs. Carter appeared instantly. "Kelsey, you've got what you came for."

"Wouldn't want to intrude," Kelsey said, her eyes never leaving Amy. She leaned closer, her voice dropping. "Careful, new girl. Not everyone stays as long as they think, and you won't be any different. Especially when I'm around."

The door shut.

Silence crashed down.

Jamie stared at the floor, fists clenched. Hugo muttered that Kelsey was "the worst." Chloe looked confused, unsettled.

Amy couldn't move. Her hands shook. Her heart raced. Tears wouldn't come—but another memory did.

Mrs. Dawes. Her confession. How she'd been adopted into a home that abused her and her siblings. How her brother (age 7) and sister (age 6) hadn't survived it.

The thought stole Amy's breath.

Even the strongest people had histories that nearly broke them.

Mrs. Carter rested a hand on Amy's shoulder. "She's not someone you need to worry about. Jamie and Kelsey dated briefly. It didn't work out."

Amy nodded, but she didn't believe it. People like Kelsey always came back. Her mum had warned her about that.

Her mum's words echoed in her mind, "they always come back.)

Later, in bed, Amy stared at the ceiling. Chloe's breathing was uneven beside her. Moonlight painted silver lines across the quilts.

A soft knock.

"Hey," Jamie whispered. "Are you awake?"

Amy sat up in bed, "yeah."

He stood in the doorway, hoodie rumpled. "I'm sorry about earlier. Kelsey's... angry. I dumped her after three months. Ever since, she makes it her mission to ruin anyone who gets close to me."

Amy swallowed. "She was always like that."

"You knew her before, didn't you?"

Amy nodded. "She and her friends used to—" She stopped.

Jamie didn't push. "You're stronger than she thinks."

Amy scoffed quietly. "You don't even know me."

He smiled. "I will."

When he left, her heart raced—not from panic this time, but something unfamiliar. Something warmer.

Chloe shifted suddenly, letting out a quiet sob.

Amy was out of bed instantly. "Hey. Talk to me."

Chloe's eyes were red, swollen. "I'm tired of pretending, Amy. Our life was ripped away today. What if this doesn't work either?"

Amy pulled her into a tight hug. "As long as we have each other, we'll be okay."

Chloe clung to her like she might disappear.

Amy didn't know yet that this house held secrets. That Mrs. Carter and Mrs. Dawes were tied to more than paperwork. That the past wasn't finished with them.

But as the wind brushed the window, Amy whispered into the dark—

"This isn't home. Not yet."

And hoped she was wrong.

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