4 - Everything Has Changed

Robin supplied the prying sergeant with her statement. Afterward, Ms Hartman and Murphy had a chat outside her room while she watched the sun set over the horizon.

Flocks of Canadian geese swooped into view, some trailing behind in the end. Other families of birds soared past them in a frenzy to get into a safe and cozy spot for the night ahead.

Robin envied the flocks of birds. They had a family, she didn't. They wouldn't leave one another or forsake the well-being of one another. Shaking her head, she warned her emotions to stay at bay. No, she wasn't going to let her anger ruin the beauty further. God's creation deserved respect.

The sky blended like a watercolour painting, the painter favouring orange with wisps of baby blue, violet, and cotton candy pink. Robin smiled again, how beautiful.

"Robin?" Ms Hartman peeked into her room.

Robin tore her eyes away from the serene peace outdoors. "Yes, ma'am?"

"You know, you can just call me Ms Hartman," she said gently, a small smile tugged at her lips.

"Oh. Okay." Robin's cheeks reddened as she averted her eyes elsewhere. Just as she was about to return her gaze to the window, Ms Hartman spoke.

"Sergeant Murphy and I were just talking about your parents' case."

She suspected that. Robin nodded though, understanding the direction where the conversation was headed. 'Not now,' She groaned inside. The last thing she wanted to talk about was her parents or the case, or anything relating to either. For goodness sake, she had done nothing but talk about them since the crash! Couldn't they give her a break?

Before the woman could continue, Robin interrupted. "When am I leaving?"

"Excuse me?" Ms Hartman raised her eyebrows.

"I feel fine. When can I leave the hospital?"

Ms Hartman said, "Oh, I guess having an IV needle in your hand is annoying. I'll find your doctor."

The next hour flew by in a blur. Nurses and doctors swarmed in and out of her hospital room rushing like maniacs but walking like snails. People kept asking how she felt, giving her instructions to take it easy on her body, and how to attend to the soreness when it became bothersome. They gave her a week's worth bottle of medicine which Robin decided she wanted after the morphine had worn off. In between each nurse's stop, Robin contemplated the thought of her future. Foster care and then what?

She frowned. Her parents were gone and as far as she knew, they hadn't written a will or left her any sort of money. The more she thought about it, she didn't want their blood money anyway. All she wanted was to figure life out on her own. No rules. No limitations. Freedom. It's all she ever wanted. All she needed was another year to pass and she'd be able to start her own life away from her parents, away from the hole they dug deep into, away from all the bruises and battles with them.

But, foster care ruined her plans. There would be yet another family to deal with. She wasn't interested in investing her time to develop any close ties as she'd be gone in a little less than a year anyway. Maybe she'd have to run away. No one would tell her what to do if she did. And all she'd need to do was lay low and avoid the cops. Her parent's enemies would be off her tail, but if she ran, she could escape it all. Nothing could hold her back if there was no reason to stay.

An invisible smile crossed Robin's lips. She was determined to escape the first chance she got.

Before leaving, the staff gave her a complimentary Cooper Hospital icepack and a little essentials kit including the basic necessities to stay healthy.

Soon enough, Ms Hartman and Robin arrived outside in the garage. A musky draft waved in the air, but the pair were too preoccupied to notice.

"It's a little old, but she'll get us where we need to go," Ms Hartman said. She patted the doors of the salsa red SUV. With a click and a blink, the car's locks popped.

Robin inspected the Toyota and shrugged. At least it didn't look like the rust bucket that slammed into her parents' car.

Once indoors, Robin rested her head against the passenger's side window. Her eyes were closed, pretending to sleep, evading the talkative social worker. She was surprised Ms Hartman actually accepted her "I'm tired" excuse. Her mind was far too awake, how could someone even sleep knowing their life was about to change so dramatically?

They hadn't always been a part of the drug trade. That she knew, that she remembered, and she wished they never got involved in. A tear leaked to the corner of her eye. Why did they have to get in so deep? It was supposed to be a one-time ordeal. They weren't supposed to get addicted. She clenched her jaw and furrowed her brows. 'Why couldn't they stay away? We were so happy one time,' Robin reflected.

"Mommy! Mommy!" A little girl called while running to the woman wearing denim shorts and a form-fitting t-shirt with her Alma mater's crest in the centre.

The beautiful brunette mother scooped the pint-sized six-year-old into her tanned arms and spun her around. Pulling her daughter tight to her chest, she let her down after a moment. "What is it my sweet little chickadee?" she asked. Her tone matched her daughter's enthusiasm. She was so sweet back then.

"Look, look!" The first grader tugged out a drawing from her Hello Kitty bag.

"Oh wow! That's amazing!" Her mother took the paper from her girl's hand. She teared up, giving her daughter a smooch on her cheek. "I love you so much! Say, how about we go to the park? Does that sound like fun?"

"Yeah!" The girl beamed.

"Okay, let's go, Robin!"

"Robin," a tender voice called, but it didn't belong to her late mother. "Honey, wake up." Ms Hartman shook Robin's shoulder.

Robin roused, looking around the car. She didn't hide her disappointment. Why did those days have to be numbered? Why couldn't they have been a normal family leading a happy life?

"Where are we?" Her voice came out dry. Wherever she was, she didn't want to be.

"We're at the foster home where you'll be staying."

Robin frowned. That woman was determined to stick her in a home whether she liked it or not.

Ms Hartman smile was lopsided. "He's a good man, has had about five foster kids before you. He even adopted a little one with his wife a long time ago."

Robin didn't care, but she held her tongue. The more she thought about it, the more she disagreed with her thought. After all, she did like kids. Hell, she wanted kids of her own someday. 'Maybe it will not be that bad,' she told herself.

Ms Hartman slid out of the car, and Robin followed.

Robin wanted to be alone and grieve without people watching her under a microscope. All she wanted was privacy, why couldn't they give her that. Everything was taken away already. Couldn't they give her dignity to cry alone?

Knock, knock. Ms Hartman's knuckles retreated from the standing wooden plank. A few seconds passed before the door swung open.

Robin felt a rush of anxiousness. What if they didn't like her? She wasn't exactly afraid of rejection, but she didn't want to feel it. Chewing at her lip, she wiggled her feet in the shoes Ms Hartman gave to her. Shifting her weight to one side, she felt her other heel catch the beat of a song that her ears missed. It sprang up and down like a rabbit's foot thumping on the ground. Her mouth was dry as she played with the tips of her hair. Her adrenaline thrived. Standing still was impossible.

She had met more people in one day than she had in what felt like a lifetime. But, for whatever inexplicable reason, Robin couldn't help feel a twinge of pain when they left her. Why did they mean so much to her when she meant nothing in return? Maybe if she didn't let them get close she wouldn't get hurt, she reasoned. It was a logical tactic.

"Yes? Oh, you must be from CPS." The man's voice returned Robin to reality. He was clad in a white plain shirt and flannel plaid pyjama trousers.

Robin sized him up.

The tall man wore rectangular lens with thin borders all around. He was lean with broad shoulders and stiff muscles. The man wasn't handsome nor ugly, just plain, average looking. Nothing head turning, in her opinion.

She'd give him some credit. She could see why women would be attracted to him, he had a debonair air about him. Women liked that about guys. Her mother wasn't immune to the characteristic her step-father and the man standing in front of her shared.

Her eyes slid aside when his glided over her.

"I'm Ms Hartman from Child Protection Services. This is Robin."

"Right. Hi, Robin. I'm Gary Bishop." At least he tried to sound friendly.

Out of respect, Robin didn't shun his greeting, after all, it was that time where people liked to be nestled in their beds.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late, Mr Bishop. Robin, I'll check up on you on February 9th. Take my card. If you need to call me, here's my number and email." Ms Hartman dug out two business cards from her back pocket and gave them each one.

Robin stared at the card. It was white with the exception of Ms Hartman's contact information and the organisation's logo. Not taking another look, Robin shoved the card into her pocket along with the sergeant's card.

"Don't forget to take your medicine. One in the morning and one in the evening if you need it. We want you healthy! I have some paperwork that we need to work out before I leave you tonight. So, Mr Bishop, if you don't mind, we can do this inside or out. It doesn't matter to me."

Mr Bishop stepped out from the threshold. "Out here is fine." He adjusted his glasses.

Ms Hartman ruffled through her tote bag and pulled out a small packet of papers.

They talked, but Robin wasn't interested. If she wasn't planning on sticking around, she reasoned listening would be redundant. Instead, she let her mind travel to the dull ache in her side. The medicine was wearing off, she figured.

"Good night, both of you."

"You're leaving?" Robin asked. Though the woman's determined attitude had made her feel annoyed and upset at first, but she didn't want her to leave. Somehow she imagined if her mother hadn't gotten involved in the drug cartel, that's how their relationship would have been: happy with its arguments and apologies; thus, functional and conventional.

"I'm afraid so, but don't worry. I'll be back in two weeks to see how you've settled in. Mr Bishop promised to take good care of you."

"Oh, Ok. Bye."

"Goodbye." Mr Bishop and Robin watched as Ms Hartman got into her car, started it, and zipped out from the sleeping street. The crickets performed their song to the silence.

"Come on in, pet."

Robin's face twisted. She wanted to smack him, but her limbs wouldn't allow her. Instead, she settled with a glare.

With a suppressed snicker, he rocked his head to the illuminated hallway as he held open the door.

She followed him inside the two-story house eyeballing him with intent to mind-slap him.

The walls were whitish with stains in the joints. It smelt as bad as a landfill, but she wouldn't say that to his face. No need for enemies on night one.

"Daddy?" A little girl shuffled into the living room. "Who's she?" Her tone wasn't snooty just filled with natural curiosity and friendliness.

Robin almost smiled, but she didn't want a reason to get attached. It would only hurt her in the end.

"Uh, she'll be staying here for awhile, okay," the man said. He folded his arms across his chest.

Robin spotted his eyes upon her and she shifted. 'He does not need to make it seem like I am a nuisance,' she thought. Her hand rubbed her shoulder.

"How old is she?" The girl tried to whisper but failed.

"I'm seventeen," Robin said. She attempted to answer as if she were bored with the girl's excitement.

"Cool! I'm ten and a half! You're seven years older than me!" the girl said. "What's your name? Mine's Erin!" In a flash, the little girl was by Robin's side, hugging Robin's arm.

Alarmed, Robin stared in surprise.

"Erin, give the girl some space!" Mr Bishop snapped.

Straight away, the little one offered an apology and backed up.

"I'm Robin."

The little redhead was about to pitch another question, but her father intervened. "Er, why don't we let Robin have a break, okay? She's had a long day. Besides, it's way past your bedtime." He glanced at his wristwatch.

"Aw!" She pouted but stopped short of complaining. "Just one more question?"

"You can ask her tomorrow," he said. His eyes dared his daughter to talk back.

It's not like she didn't know "the look" herself. But to a child at Erin's age, Robin thought it was unnecessary. She felt unease bubble in her core. His response rocked her confidence that everything was safe and normal in the house of two. It didn't sit right with her that he gave his little girl a look of such unwarranted disapproval.

In a snap of a finger, his eyes regained its kindness. "Hup, hup, come on, now. Off to bed." He patted Erin's behind.

"Ok, Daddy."

Erin trudged upstairs with a purple stuffed cat in her hands. She certainly was a cutie, no denying that. Robin couldn't help but wonder why Erin's former parents would give up their child at such a young age. She stood in her spot as the clock ticked away.

"She's a little night owl that one." Mr Bishop smiled.

Robin nodded.

"Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Oh, right, I was going to show you to your room."

They climbed the stairs and entered the door nearest the stairs on the left. After turning on the light, they entered. It was still dim, as the light emitted from a little lamp on a nightstand. The room was dull, nothing screamed "I'm a girl!"

"I'll let you get settled in, yours is the bottom bunk." Mr Bishop pointed to the bed on the left. "The bathroom's right across the hallway, and uh, just give me a shout if you need anything."

Robin nodded, and he left her alone with Erin. Quietly, Robin unpacked her clothes - the few she had - and stacked them inside the dresser drawers.

Erin sat up in bed, watching Robin's every move like with eagle eyes.

Robin knew Erin was watching, but she didn't care. She couldn't let herself care. The girl was supposed to be tucked in with sugar plums dancing in her head. Ignoring her desire to talk to the little one, Robin continued with her business.

Erin must have fallen asleep after awhile because Robin heard her snore a little. Tugging out a sleeveless shirt, shorts, the hospital toothbrush, and cheap paste from her bag, Robin pressed down on the door handle. The door creaked as she pried it away from the frame. As she was about to cross the room's boundaries, a voice startled her.

"Where are you going?" Erin yawned, rousing from her slumber.

"Ah, just to the bathroom."

"Ok." Her voice was laced with gentleness.

With a small smile, she watched Erin snuggle back underneath her soft rose covers.

'Oops, almost forgot!' Robin paused. Returning to her bag, she grabbed her medicine.

Her toes curled in protest as she entered the decent-sized full bathroom. It was far from five stars but better than her own. Stripping out of her clothes, she switched into the pyjamas and yanked her hair out of the ponytail it sported. The black band slid onto her wrist. The white pill bottle cap popped open, and she dumped a capsule into her hand. Without further thought, Robin swallowed the painkiller with water. The lid snapped back. Squirting the blue gel onto the toothbrush's bristles, it took her all of two minutes for her teeth to feel clean. By the time she finished, her toes had frozen over. They ached as she forced them to move.

Erin was snoring again when Robin sneaked inside. The sound wasn't anything Robin wasn't used to.

She walked into the living room. Her father was snoring as loud as the waves crashing into the ocean. His arm was thrown over the back of the sofa, his legs splayed out, one on the sofa, the other dangling off, just hanging limply. Robin carefully covered him with a blanket and slipped into her room.

Why couldn't she get her parents off her mind? Shaking her head, she turned out the lamp. Robin eased into the bunk beneath Erin and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. Something told her the Sandman wouldn't be paying her a visit. She stared at the little butterfly light in the corner. It kept her company throughout the night.

A/N: I'm dedicating this chapter to @SallyMason1. She's a really talented writer; you ought to check her out! On another note, please remember to take a look at her story Living With the Choices We Make (A Domestic Violence Tale)! This is Rena's story:

This gripping and emotionally heart-tugging novel, Living With the Choices You Make takes you through Rena Cooper's roller coaster relationship with Brent Parks, a 17-year-old. Beginning their relationship, this 15-year-old girl thought she had met her Prince Charming, that she would have the fairy tale life with her "perfect" boyfriend. However, with clever manipulation and extreme and obsessive possessiveness, Brent becomes Rena's beast. Yet, Rena doesn't notice the red flags before everything she had is lost. She's trapped in his abusive web and burns bridges that she realises she should have kept. Until something caused her to snap! Now, there's one man that can help her out of a possible death sentence: he's her only hope, her last chance at life. Her future, it all rests in Dr Nate Sullivan's hands, but Rena doesn't trust him. She doesn't trust anyone anymore and pushes him away. The jury must decide if this "uncooperative and hostile at time" teen murdered out of malice or in fear. All Rena can do is wait for the jury to return a verdict: Guilty or Not Guilty.

A/N: LWTCWM and her story, Trapped are going to enter the Wattys 2015! Please help my dearest friend on Wattpad to get one of those really great badges on one or both of her stories! They're worth reading!