by S. A. Beck
She thought back on all the schools and group homes she’d been to, all the roommates and foster brothers and foster sisters, all the study partners. None of them had kept in touch. Jaxon couldn’t remember anyone even offering except for Ginger, and Jaxon wasn’t about to call a few hours after saying good-bye. That would look totally pathetic. Jaxon looked at the floor.
“Jaxon, is there anyone you want to call?” her foster mother repeated.
“No,” Jaxon mumbled.
“That’s settled then,” Isadore said with a flat smile. “Now let’s go upstairs, and I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
Jaxon followed her, dejected. She knew there would be something wrong with this foster home. There always was.
On the other side of the main hall was a gym. Jaxon felt a tug of nostalgia seeing all the weights and machines. Working out with Otto and his friends had been one of the few good times she had enjoyed in the past year. Now that was all gone.
Isadore indicated all the equipment. “We have a holistic view of education. In addition to enrolling you in a leading school, we’ll also work on training your body. Dr. Hollis said you enjoy the gym. We’ll get you in tiptop condition.”
She led Jaxon to the main hall again. They ascended the broad, curving staircase to the upstairs hallway. Like the rest of the house, it had white walls, a bare wooden floor, and sparse decorations except for a few bits of modern art. Jaxon looked around. The place didn’t look very lived in—everything was too clean and orderly. It was like one of those houses in a magazine.
Isadore showed her the bathroom, the upstairs lounge, Stephen’s office (off-limits), Isadore’s office (off-limits), the Grants’ bedroom (off-limits), and finally her new bedroom.
Jaxon wasn’t surprised to see that it was large and mostly empty. She had a queen-sized bed, a desk, an ergonomic metal office chair that swung around, a bookshelf filled with all sorts of books, a walk-in closet that was completely bare, and big windows that, when she parted the lacy white curtains, revealed a wonderful view of the backyard and greenhouse. Her battered blue suitcases sat at the edge of her bed. Stephen stood outside the greenhouse door, and when he saw her looking, he gave her a wave and a smile.
Jaxon waved back and forced the edges of her mouth upward.
“I’ll let you get settled,” Isadore said. “Just let me know if you need anything.”
Once she left, Jaxon stuck her tongue out at the empty doorway. Get settled? Yeah, right.
She flopped down on the bed, feeling glum. She had slept in homier rooms in institutions than in this mansion. She didn’t even have any decorations on the walls. She decided to talk to Stephen and Isadore about that and immediately realized that would be a bad idea. They’d either say no or put up some of that ugly modern art. It was weird that these guys had so much money but couldn’t set up a nice house.
At least the bed was comfy. Maybe she should just sleep until she was eighteen.
Isadore’s voice called from downstairs. “Jaxon! Once you’re finished up there, come on down. We’d like to talk to you about your work schedule.”
Jaxon groaned and forced herself to sit up. “Home sweet home.” She sighed and started to unpack.
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