Andrew was stunned.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was standing before his very own eyes. She had long raven black wavy hair all the way down to her butt, bright blue eyes like the cold waters of the pond near his previous house and slightly tanned skin, kissed by the sun itself.

Her thin eyebrows were drawn into a frown, in complete contrast to her delicate figure and soft features.

She came to a halt when she saw the boy eyeing her warily. A tired smile of relief graced her smooth face. She clasped her hands and beamed at him, "Good to see you finally awake."

Andrew was looking at the stranger in the room rather intensely. "Who are you?" he asked, voice laced with fright.

His life was flipped upside down in matter of a day or two, leaving him exposed to the cruel world which his parents so desperately had tried to protect him from.

He wasn't used to waking up at random places every time he passed out, but apparently it was becoming a repeating occurrence of his.

He observed with two unfocused grass green eyes the woman as she sat on the chair to his left. The soft look she had was easing him a bit, just a little.

"Don't be afraid, my child. I don't have any bad intentions," she said lightly as though had she spoken louder, the boy would have peed himself.

Andrew gave a weak nod of acknowledgment, silently urging her to continue.

And that was what she did, "My name is Lydia and I was the one who found you on the road three hours ago. What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Andrew," the blonde teen answered with a raspy voice. He cleared his throat, his mouth felt like Sahara desert – dry. Needless to say, he was in need of a cup of water.

Lydia noticed his discomfort and left the room shortly. When she returned she was holding a bottle of water and gave it to him.

Muttering a quiet 'thank you', he accepted the bottle and drank nearly all of its contents in one go. The woman was staring at him impressed and maybe a little concerned. She wondered when was the last time he had drunk water.

"So, Andrew," she spoke, "Do you know at least one of your parents' number? You don't have a phone with you, therefore we haven't informed them of your current whereabouts."

"I don't think that's of much importance, Miss Lydia," he whispered, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"And why is that?" she wondered aloud, her curious eyes wandering across his face, studying his broken expression.

"They left me on a field yesterday and never returned. They got rid of me." A single tear caressed his flushed cheek before it was rudely wiped away by him.

"Well, I'm a social worker and I'd like you to tell me the whole story. I'll have to record it, though. Do you mind?" Lydia questioned as she got her phone out of her purse.

"Of course not."