Sonny and Sarah had a new member of the family. Sam had a new neighbor and soon-to-be friend. And Mrs. Quinn was now a mother of three children, not just two.

Kathy was excited. She admitted to her kids and Sam that she had been thinking about adoption since the end of the summer last year. In October, she made the final decision and headed to the adoption center that was a few miles away. There, she met the mistress, the woman who ran the place, and talked with her. Mrs. Quinn was very specific. She wanted a girl who was around Sarah's age. Fifteen to seventeen years old. And the girl needed to be nice and helpful.

The mistress named Ms. Jane laid down the rules and told her that there were no boys or girls who were older than thirteen. She also added that if she was really sure about adopting, then she would have to sign a lot of documents and attend tons of meetings.

Mrs. Quinn nodded, knowing of the hard work that she would have to put in. She knew that it would be a long process and that she probably would not get the girl until the time was right. But she had been a nurse for almost a year, so she had plenty of patience in her.

After what seemed like an eternity of chatting, Ms. Jane led Kathy to the playroom where all the kids were. She called the ones who were ten to thirteen and made them line up. But it did not take Kathy long to choose which one she was going to adopt.

That was when she met Shelly.

It was now March. Sonny and Sarah grew fond of their new sister and even let her hang out with them and Sam. Even Sam liked Shelly.

But not - like - like.

The mother loved her new daughter so much. She read to her before bedtime, put her to bed, fixed her favorite meals, and even took her to her most favorite stores and restaurants. Kathy was happy to do it all.

Then something changed.

It was the middle of the month. Things were getting intense at school for Sonny, Sarah, and Sam. Homework. Tests. Field trips. You name it. And Mrs. Quinn was extremely busy with work. It had not been easy for her or her kids since their father passed two years ago.

Shelly was lucky. She did not have to worry about school because she was homeschooled. And her new mom did not give her much homework. It was mostly due to the fact that Mrs. Quinn had her hands and mind set to her work. So she just ate and played around all day while the mom and her new siblings were out of the house.

However, Shelly did not like it. Not one bit.

Shelly did not like being alone for most of the day. She did not like making her own meals. At one point, she suffered a severe burn while trying to cook on the stove. Thankfully, Sarah and the boys arrived home at the moment when their sister burned her finger and burst out crying. You would think that her family, especially the mother, would give her the attention that she needed after her pinky finger nearly turned black.

But no. They acted like that never happened and went back to what they always did the next day.

Were they forgetful? Or did they just not care?

Shelly was sad. If only she had somebody to talk to...

Monday mornings. Ugh. Mondays are the worst.

The family had just finished breakfast. Sarah and Sonny got up from the table and took care of their dishes and leftovers. They then ran to their rooms to get ready for school.

Shelly sighed, and her face saddened.

"There they go again," Shelly said to herself. "They even do this on the weekends."

She turned her head to look at Mrs. Quinn. Kathy was finishing her eggs. She soon ate the last piece of her eggs and swallowed. She set her fork on her plate and smiled at Shelly.

"I see that you have not eaten your food," Kathy stated, pointing at the plate of food.

Shelly shrugged. "I am not hungry."

"Oh? Why not?"

"My stomach does not feel hungry." She was actually not hungry because she was too sad and full of gloom, but the mother did not know that.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It is just not hungry."

"Hmm. Maybe this will help with your appetite." She left the table and soon came back with something. She held it out to Shelly. It was a blue box with a white bow on the top. "This is for you."

Shelly raised an eyebrow and slowly took the box. It was big...and heavy. She lifted the lid and gasped.

"A...doll."

Indeed, it was.

The doll was a boy. He wore a gray jacket and gray pants with a red bow-tie and red boutonnière. He also wore black shoes.

"His name is Slappy," Kathy told her. "I found him in a trash bin that is near where I work. He was a mess, so I cleaned him up and decided to give him to you. I know that you love dolls."

Shelly set the box and lid on the table and pulled Slappy out of the box. She examined him.

"He is cute."

The mom giggled. "I know, right? He looks familiar to me. But I do not know why." She picked up her purse that was next to her chair and swung it over her shoulder. "I have to go. See you later." She left the room.

Shelly became sad once again and looked at Slappy. The front door soon closed, indicating that everybody left, and she set Slappy in her chair and gathered her plate and utensils. She was about to leave the room, when she heard...

"Need help?"