Andrew was disappointed

He was carefully listening to Lydia, losing his hope for justice more and more as she spoke, "I'm sorry, sweetie. Typically, that would be child abandonment... But, seeing as you are sixteen years old, a lot older than ten, I'm afraid there are very few legal actions to be taken against your parents."

"They're not going to jail or anything?" he asked with a tone full of the emptiness he was feeling inside at that moment.

"No. No, the most we can do is to get them sign you up for adoption if they don't want you. That, and maybe fine them? I'm not really sure," she said softly, making sure not to overwhelm the boy.

Andrew was on the verge of crying. Again. He couldn't comprehend that the people who left him to starve in the middle of nowhere were not to be punished by the law. Instead, they were going to erase all of the evidence he had ever existed and move on.

He clenched his fist of the thought of them doing the same thing they did to Luca – forgetting him once and for all.

Lydia noticed the tense posture of the teen. She cautiously put a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed it. The effect was immediate – Andrew visibly relaxed under the slight pressure.

He looked at the older woman next to him with the barely audible words, "What happens next?"

She pursed her lips for a second before answering, albeit a little hesitantly, "Well... You'll have to give us their personal information, like their names, your address or just the name of your hometown. You'll stay with me until they've given you up for adoption, and you might find a new family. If not, I'll foster you for as long as you need."

"Thanks," he have her a weak smile in return.

"No worries, kiddo. I'll go and talk to the doctor about your discharge from this smelly hospital." With that being said, she stood up and exited the room.

Andrew followed her with his eyes, not wanting to move a lot. He sighed and cursed under his breath. He was frustrated with everything; frustrated with his parents' poor decisions, with having to live with a stranger from now on – a sweet stranger, but a stranger nonetheless.

He ran a hand roughly through his platinum blond hair. He grabbed some of his unruly locks and glared at them, their colour momentarily distracting him. The green had washed out days ago, showing the world one of the many similarities he shared with his deceased brother.

He didn't need to be reminded of the past every time he looked in the mirror. Unfortunately, he had totally forgotten to dye it again.

Sighing once more, he let go of his hair. He didn't have enough energy to deal with this bullshit.

He dropped his head against the pillow and waited for somebody to get the needles out of his hands so he could get out of the hospital.

And there he laid in the suffocating silence of his absent thoughts.