Author Note

My apologies for the lengthy delay in getting this piece wrapped up. Time flies. Enjoy, and I hope to be back with more. ~b'shert

Chapter 5

"'Listen to the mustn'ts...Listen to the don'ts

Listen to the shouldn'ts...The impossibles...the won'ts

Listen to the never haves

Then listen close to me—

Anything can happen...Anything can be.'" - Shel Silverstein

Like clockwork, Callie fell asleep easily but woke a few hours later. After tossing and turning a bit, she went to check on Jude, the way she'd done for as long as she could remember. He had nightmares and would still have accidents on occasion even though he was too old for them. So she had to make sure he didn't need her help. Luckily, things had gotten better since they'd moved here. Jude had had a few rough nights but none that were terrible. Finding him asleep, she crept back into the family room. Her new foster mothers kept apologizing about her being on the couch but she actually liked camping out on the main floor; close to her brother and separate from the others. Once everyone went upstairs for the night, it was quiet.

In the dark, imagination kicked into overdrive. She found herself wondering what it'd be like to live with this family long term—to suddenly go from just her and Jude to being part of this huge, crazy group that was all at once hokey and kind. Wanting to avoid getting too comfortable, she reminded herself that even if Stef and Lena were nice now, people changed. It was always how it was; things were okay...until they weren't.

Stef sighed heavily at the sound of footsteps downstairs. Her eyes watered, straining to remain open in the glow of the numbers depicting the time. Twelve-thirty. Callie always stirred exactly two cycles from when she fell asleep, which usually worked out to be around midnight. Putting on her robe, she padded down the stairs and made her way to the family room, stopping at the threshold to avoid startling the girl. From where she was, she could make out Callie's upright form trying to straighten the sheets. "Hey there. Everything alright, Cal?" she said softly, feeling bad when the girl jumped.

"Ah! Yeah." Heart pounding, Callie tried to slow her breathing. She had no idea how the cop had heard her when she'd been so careful to be quiet. "Sorry," she muttered, taken aback by the lack of perceptible anger.

"Hmm? What for?" Stef said, confused.

"Waking you."

"Oh, you didn't wake me, love. I did night shifts for many, many years and am a light sleeper because of it. Really, you didn't wake me up. I was on my way down to make sure everything was okay," Stef lied. "Can I get you anything? Warm milk or a water?" Seeing that Callie was nervous, the last thing she wanted to do was to rush back to bed. She wanted to stay long enough to ensure the girl was alright—and more importantly, to show that she cared.

"No, thank you. Just can't sleep," Callie replied. It wasn't that big a deal.

"I hate it when that happens," Stef sympathized. Callie was now squeezing her fingers together. "Has anyone tried to help you get back to sleep before? If so, do you remember what helped?" She avoided attributing that question specifically to a parent, though assumed if it'd be anyone it would've been her mother or father. Neither Callie nor Jude had mentioned them yet and she and Lena were being respectful of maintaining that safe space. In due time, with trust, they hoped the siblings would talk to them about life prior to foster care.

Callie stalled as she considered the question. Her Mom had, but that was a long time ago, obviously. Apart from that, her waking up was never a concern to anyone except when she woke others up. Her foster mother sounded genuinely concerned, though. Not upset. "Can you read...to me?" she said, deflecting.

"Of course. Do you have something in mind?" Stef asked, helping Callie straighten out the blankets once the girl had settled down on her side. Knees curled up and her back to the cushions, she looked comfortable.

"Maybe...the card?" Callie said softly. A part of her was needing confirmation that she hadn't imagined the whole thing.

"Your birthday card? I'd love to." Grabbing the card and a cushion, Stef planted herself down on the coffee table for a second time that night. It was the perfect distance; close enough so that she could read quietly and still be heard, but far enough so as to not crowd Callie.

Unable to see a thing, Stef turned the lamp on to its dimmest setting. "Okay. Let's see here. 'Happy birthday, Callie. I am sorry we missed your real birthday. Hope you had a great day and we get to hang out soon. Brandon.'" She began with his message, simply because his handwriting was the largest and easiest to read. She paused, letting that one sink in.

"Alright, this is Mariana. 'Happy belated, Callie! Can't believe you're turning thirteen before me! So jelly.' Hm, maybe that's teenage girl speak that you'll be able to decipher," Stef said. She was just as confused by that word the second time around. 'XOXO'

Callie chewed her bottom lip, hiding the fact she wanted to laugh. "That means jealous."

"Ohh, I see. Thought you might know something about that." The woman frowned, turning the card towards the light so she could better see Jude's writing. His penmanship needed a lot of work, as did his spelling and grammar. "Alright, let's see here... 'Happy, happy birthday Callie! Your the BEST big sister I cold ever ask for and more, I love you lots, can't wait for when we can be in the same billding for school so then I won't miss you the hole day. I love u Callie! Juje.'

Her vision blurred at the eight-year-old's sweet message, and its subtle truth: that he hadn't yet made any friends. She had no doubt he would; Jude was a likeable, easygoing boy. He and Callie just hadn't been at Anchor Beach very long. Still, growing pains were never fun for children and parents alike.

"That's really sweet of your brother," Stef remarked. "Last one is from Jesus." Their younger son's spelling also needed some attention. "'Hey Calie. We havent realy gotten to chill together yet but you seem realy cool and I cant wait to do stuff together. Happy belated by the way. I hope you stay becuz I always wanted a big sister. Even though Mari and I are twins, I was first so am older teknickly.'" Stef laughed; birth order was always something the twins ragged on each other about.

"That's nice of everyone," Callie said in a small voice. A card maxed out in space from being filled with messages was, hands down, the nicest thing a family had done for her. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten something so thoughtful.

Stef hummed thoughtfully, recognizing what they took for granted in their home others couldn't. "They were so excited for you. I hope you had a fun day, even if it came late. I am so sorry again."

"No, it was fun," Callie replied. "...doesn't matter it was late." Suddenly, she was hit with a realization that something was off. "One's missing."

"Hm?"

"The one you and your wife wrote. You forgot."

Stef had to smile at Callie's bluntness in holding her accountable. "You're right. I did." Stef went back to the message she and Lena had written together before circulating the card among the kids.

"Wishing you a very Happy Belated Birthday, Callie.

Thirteen?!

We are privileged to be a part of your life for such a momentous occasion. It is an exciting time, and we hope you will find our home a safe place you can count on having, on your way to becoming a full fledged teenager. Our intention is to walk with you as long as you need us to. (Yes, even when you might not want us to, or know that you'd like us to).

Look forward to getting to know each other over the next little while. Lots of love and hugs, Lena and Stef."

"Yeah you heard that right. A full fledged teenager! My goodness," the cop remarked as a goofy smile crept across Callie's face. "Sure I can't get you anything? I can make a hot Ovaltine."

"I dunno what that is," Callie managed before yawning a big yawn.

"It's a malty chocolate drink," Stef explained. This kid was tired. Not only physically from interrupted sleep, but she was guessing mentally drained from being hypervigilant when around them. "Do you want to start one of your new books?" she tried when Callie didn't say anything. She didn't want to leave until she was sure the girl was settled.

The pause was long enough that it almost convinced her Callie had drifted off...until a barely coherent request for her to read the card again was mumbled out. More than happy to oblige, Stef did so—in as slow and monotonous a tone as she could manage without putting herself to sleep. The child's eyelids fluttered open and closed, and impatience came easy at her efforts not having the desired effect. However, Stef understood why Callie didn't feel completely safe to sleep in a new place, and around a stranger on top of it all.

Callie was nearly out by the time she finished round two of birthday messages. Proud of herself for being able to lull her to sleep, she looked over their newest family member. Lips pursed and cheeks puffed in sleep, she was having trouble picturing the youth as an offender. There was no way this kid had participated in the delinquency they said she had. "Hope you can get comfortable here," she whispered. Thirteen was a coming of age, filled with hope and excitement of things to look forward to for so many kids. That had obviously not been the case for Callie. More than ever, she needed people who would root for her and inspire her to keep trucking forward.

It was then that something unexpected caught her attention. Something that shouldn't have been there.

Bruising was visible in the gap between the waistband of Callie's pyjamas and the edge of her top which had ridden up. The patchwork way it snaked around the hip bone told her whatever had caused it had likely been from repeated impact. And while her mind tried to rationalize its way into having her believe it was from a routine knock or a bump from childhood, hypervigilance indicated it was a casualty from the last placement the kids had been at.

Needing to take a closer look, Stef cleared her throat to check if Callie would wake. "Can I fix your blanket? I'm going to pull it up a little so you're all cozy," she explained, being careful with her assessment. No one liked their personal space intruded upon, and she suspected Callie least of all.

Not getting anything that resembled a response, she leaned in to tug the comforter up past belly button level. Callie's eyes immediately flew open as the fabric brushed against bare skin before rolling back just as quick.

Closer up, Stef could make out other marks. Silvery white ones around the torso looked like stretch marks upon first glance, but weren't uniform in the way that would be expected of naturally-occurring scars.

"What happened to you…?" She was certain that if Callie had any ability or willingness to answer her truthfully it would be to say 'a lot.' She was convinced her foster daughter had been intentionally hurt before. Intuition had pointed to that from the get go—but the evidence was so glaring now she could no longer deny it for her own comfort.

Right in that moment, Callie let out a sigh. It was as though a part of her foster daughter was relieved that, for the first time, someone had asked what had happened to her rather than what she had done.

"You're safe here. You're safe with Lena and I," Stef said, thankful that luck had brought Callie and Jude into their lives.

She had absolutely no intention of letting them go. None whatsoever, because she was determined to have them stay.

No. These kids were where they belonged.