Stranded at the right place

wn business. But there was one bright spot in her otherwise bleak world: her degree. Graduating with honors and a 95% average f

e'd learned young that celebrations were for other people. It was almost funny in a hollow way; h

ing like a too-tight collar, and in the center of it all, Madam Green herself. A thickset woman with a temper that could curdle milk, she rul

ther step she'd survive, a small stage

-

the porch, arms crossed, clutching a battered green backpack th

hrough the air. "Keeping me waiting, you la

bag. The weight told her it was stuffed with her few, worn belo

m. "Not my problem," she replied, voice laced with contempt. "You're o

ked, though she fought to keep it steady

ips. "I'm sick of your sulking around here, eating my food, breathing my

d. "You're throwing me

o'll cause less trouble. You think you're special becaus

isn't fair, Madam Green. I've done everything you asked. I k

nd a brat like you should know that by now. Now get gone before

be met with more ridicule. With a final, hollow glance at the place she'd reluctantly called "home

oice followed her. "Good riddance! You'll see-n

th and walked away, each st

her feet. "This is the last thing you're getting from me," she sneered, her eyes flashing with a cold warn

and humiliation. "You're actually kicking me out with fifty

erever you want-just keep out of my hair. And remember, g

nstead, she picked up the crumpled bill, her fingers tightening around it. "I don't owe you anything,"

, she turned and walked back into the house, slamming the

g the backpack and the crumpled bill. She didn't know what

rk lashes sticking to her skin. Each step took her farther from the place she'd never dared to call

low, and yet she held onto it like a lifeline, squeezing the tattered green backpack against her chest as if it migh

been accepted into the MLIS program with an undergraduate degree in history-a modest goal, but it was a start. The scholarship covered her tuition, something she neve

ut it came with conditions. Food and shelter were on her, and she had no idea how she'd survive fifty days on her own unt

n passed from house to house so many times that the idea of yet another foster home made her feel sick. What if it was worse? What if they stuck her in some place wh

It might as well have been an insult, but it was also all she had. And that thought twisted her insides,

dn't know where she'd sleep, how she'd eat, or what she'd even do t