As I walked into the building with my head hanging low, the first thing my eyes met besides the worn wooden floor was a tapping foot. My gaze followed up from the foot, to a fragile thin body with arms crossed, to an angry scowl from Mrs. Henderson. She propped one hand on her hip and jabbed the pointer finger from her other hands in the direction of the grand staircase.

If I were one of the younger kids, I'd be on my knees begging for forgiveness and kissing her wrinkly old feet. But in reality, I was one of the oldest kids, and I had already been through this routine a plethora of times.

"Go to your room and don't you dare come out unless your presence is requested." We said simultaneously in a matching stern tone.

My mockery only made the old women angrier. I ignored her wrath and hollers as I made my way up the spiral staircase. She continued to spit threats at me, not realizing how much I didn't care. All I heard was something about more chores, and no 'snack time' for the next week, and more tutoring classes

"And no supper!" Was the last thing I heard as I closed my door, finally sealing myself away in the solitude I needed.

I set my bag on top of my dresser. Ignoring the fact that it looked like a tornado had hit my room, I went straight for my still un-made bed and fell face first into it. From this position I kicked off my shoes to allow my feet to breath again. My head turned to my small black alarm clock on my nightstand. It read 2:14pm. Sadly that meant I had missed lunch, and snack hour. We all know now that I clearly wasn't getting any supper either. I threw my face back into my blankets and groaned. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice come from behind me. The only voice I would allow to talk to me no matter what mood I was in.

"Look who made it home."

I sat up, already smiling, and turned around. The one-and-only James Lockridge was grinning back at me as he leaned against my dresser.

James was the oldest kid in the foster home. Well, technically we wasn't 'one of the kids' anymore. After he turned 18, he was considered an independent adult who didn't need any parents to adopt him. Sadly, that meant he was supposed to be put into the big kid world and start his actual life on his own.

Or at least he would've had to, but thank God Mr. Henderson allowed him to stay in the foster home as an employee/sitter. Now he stays here, working on saving money until he can at least get his own place. WHICH he said I could move into if I ever needed to. James was the only person I could trust my life with. If I could adopt him as a brother, I would in the blink of an eye. But since I can't, he's just my figurative brother.

"Well I had to come back at some point. You still owe me 50$." I scoffed with a wink.

James grinned and rolled his eyes, "Yeah, maybe I'll get that to you at some point." He grabbed my bag from where I left it and tip-toed over my clothes till he met me at my bed.

I playfully hit him in the arm as he sat next to me, "If I don't get it soon, don't think I won't charge you interest." I watched as James opened my bag and took out the three photo albums I had in there. Grabbing the red one in particular, he began to flip through it and made comments on each picture.

"This one is nice," He pointed out a photo of the sunrise I took this morning. "The colors are beautiful." He finished.

A soft smile spread on my lips as I admired my catch. The sun had just barely peaked out between two trees, causing a silhouette that brought out the colorful sky of blues, oranges, pinks above it.

"Yeah you're right..." I agreed, believing it was one of my best. I carefully took the picture out of its pocket, and hopped next to my bed, grabbing a pen off my nightstand. I scribbled "06-09-18" on the back of the photo, then reached for the clothespin line I had above my window. This was where I put my best shots.

When I turned around, James was mere inches away from my face. Without flinching, I rose an eyebrow at him. He had a smirk stitched on his lips and a look hinting he was about to ask something I wasn't going to like answering.

"So who brought you home?" He asked slyly.

I attempted to look confused and innocent for a moment, "Who? My feet did."

Sadly, he saw right through my lie, "Robin, I saw the Camaro outside. Who drove you home?" He asked again with a more stern persistence.

An annoyed sigh escaped my breath. There was no use trying to lie to him. So I told the truth, "One of the police officers did." Okay most of the truth.

He continued to raise an eyebrow at me.

"James, it's not that weird." I shrugged, trying to blow off the subject.

"You're right, it's not weird that he, or she, brought you home. What's weird is how long you stayed in the car after you had pulled up." He accused, knowing I'd crack if he didn't shut up.

I threw my arms in the air dramatically, "Alright! Geez Mr. Snoopy."

James sat back in my bed smiling in victory. I stuck my tongue out at him.

"His name is Liam, Liam Warren. It's the second time I've seen him around the station, so he's still pretty much a newbie. He offered to drive me home since his shift was over and he didn't think I could walk myself." I tried sounding displeased, but it really was a nice gesture that I appreciated. Too bad I treated him like crap before I left.

The brat rolled his eyes, "Please don't tell me you guys fell in love at first kiss and did it in the back of the car."

"No!" I yelled as I slapped James in the arm. "Besides, there probably isn't enough room in that thing."

While rubbing the spot I slapped him, he chuckled. Then James' eyes lit up and he dramatically gasped, "Did you tell him your real name?!"

"Hell no." I defended quickly with a stern voice. Temped to hit him again for even thinking that. He and the Hendersons were the only ones who knew my birth name.

James smiled playfully and shrugged, "So nothing happened?"

"No, nothing except for him trying to parent talk me like everybody else has." I explained, aggravated still.

The spot on James' arm was starting to look really red, I could make out my fingerprints. "Sorry." I said quietly.

"Oh this? You've done worse." He assured me, as he rubbed the spot again. Then his playful expression fell and he suddenly looked concerned. "You know Robin-"

His voice was cut off by my door opening. I wasn't very pleased to see Mrs. Henderson intruding without even knocking.

"Mr. Lockridge, you're needed in the dining room. The dishes for supper are needed to be set on the tables. And do be sure and leave a plate missing, for Miss Tyler here." She said snobbishly nodding her head at me.

The mentioning of food made my stomach rumble. I gave a fake smile and waved the old lady away, "OK Mrs. Henderson, you've left your message."

The woman 'Hmmph'ed at me and left my room. She didn't even close the door behind her, which she knew would drive me crazy

James shook his head, "I'll see you late Robin. I guess sometime after dinner. I'll try to have Sticky Stan bring you some leftovers so you don't starve." He smiled and ruffled my hair, then got up from my bed and made his way out my door. Winking at me as he closed it behind him.

I laid back in my bed and stared at the green stars on my ceiling. Ever since I was younger, I had always begged for those glow-in-the-dark space stick-ons. Considering we lived in the city, I could never see any real stars outside my window. One of the many cons of urban living. When Mr. Henderson finally agreed to take me out to the dollar store and buy them with my allowance money, I had thanked him a million times.

That man, was so sweet and caring. He tried so hard to give us kids all the things we wanted, and the only thing he asked for in return, was our smiles.

Mr. Henderson and his wife were unable to have children. At first, they were devastated, thinking they'd never have their own family. Then Mr. Henderson had gotten to idea to make a family out of other kids who didn't have one either. He never wanted a child to feel alone, so he gave us all something we never had. A home, or at least something close enough to it. I sometimes think Mrs. Henderson regrets the idea, but maybe she's just old and tired. Her husband on the other hand, has undeniably loved every single child in this building

Which would include me, little baby 'Robin' Erin Tyler, who showed up on the staircase of the Henderson Foster Home seventeen years ago. This place has been the only home I had my whole life. And it wasn't perfect, but it was where my heart was.

That doesn't mean I never wondered what it would be like to have a real home, though. With real parents...

My pillow underneath me suddenly felt wet. I hadn't realized I'd been crying. Quickly I wiped my eyes and shook my head. I exhaled and turned to my side, pulling my knees up to my chest. Closing my eyes, I attempted to sleep and escape my thoughts.

A knock at my door slapped me out of my precious nap. My eyes struggled to open as I sat up in my bed. My pillow was now soaked, but I quickly realized it wasn't from tears. I had been drooling. Gross. Turning to the clock, I saw it was already 5:07pm now. Everyone should be in the dining hall eating dinner, so I knew it wasn't Sticky sneaking me some leftovers yet. While trying to decipher who it might be, another knock tapped.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." I groaned as I got up from my comfy blankets. I swore I could hear my bed calling me as I walked away from it.

I almost screamed when there was another knock. I grabbed the handle of my door and yanked it open, looking very irritated. Quickly that expression fell from my face as I realized the knocker had been Mr. Henderson.

Suddenly I realized how less often the kids and I had seen Mr. Henderson around the home. He used to be more active and social, but lately he's kept his peace in his office. No one questioned him though, we obviously knew how busy the man could be kept. But something seemed off about him. He seemed more exhausted and worn out.

Mr. Henderson cleared his throat before he spoke. "Good evening Miss Tyler, how was your nap?" He asked in a gravelly voice.

I quickly became self conscious about my looks. Nonchalantly adjusting my hair and wiping my face one more time for drool marks, I shrugged, "Well you know me Sir. My bed is my favorite place to be and napping is my favorite thing to do."

Since I had moved here, Mr. Henderson had always been the nicest and most understanding adult, so I was always careful not to be such a sarcastic brat around him.

"I suppose you mean to say your most favorite, besides being incarcerated for setting the environment aflame?" He accused as he slightly leaned forward with a raised eyebrow.

I held my arms behind my back and rocked on my heels. I annoyingly felt like a little girl being scolded, "So.. No offense Sir, but are you going to lecture me too?" I asked.

The old man closed his eyes and sighed heavily, "Miss Tyler, I wish for you to come have dinner with me in the study. So that we can discuss a certain... matter"

My head nodded and then dropped to the floor and I let Mr. Henderson lead me down the empty corridor.

Not gonna lie, I felt a little worried, which is something I didn't do often.