Morgana Cardea Sweeney has had a hard life.
She was put up for adoption before birth and given to a loving, stable couple unable to have children. But our story is more intricate than that.
With the death and rejection of her adopted parents, she...
Hi, guys. Thanks for checking out my story! Would love if you could share, comment and vote. How are you guys? Please give feedback. Have a fantastic day. Or night. ######################################### Never forget us. I will not. I promise.
Don't get caught-up in their world. I will not. I promise.
I promised Jo and Daphne these things. I will not break them. With my bags about to be packed into Gail's car, I turn and wave at Daphne who is sitting in the window frame of our -- her bedroom. In return she gives me the Hunger Games gesture with her two fingers.
"Come on, darling." Gail puts her hand on my shoulder.
I think I know how Harry Potter felt on his way to Hogwarts. And we drive off into the sunset. Half an hour later we are in the suburbs where I met my parents less than a month ago. Gail finially pulls into the driveway of a quaint yet modern house of more than necessary size.
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But it's minute compared to the house across the street. It is a mansion in every sense of the word. In the driveway stands a Ferrari. A real Ferrari. It's red and everything!
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Gail laughs at my agape mouth. "That's the Danger's house. You've met the son, Julian? A bit reckless but with a stepmother old enough to be his sister, I'm not surprised. Come, let me show you where you room will be."
I follow her up the steps and straight into the lounge with the kitchen on the left, dining room on right and a parlor straight ahead.
"Okay," says Gail, "your bedroom is up the staircase on the left. The second door you find is your bedroom and the first is the study."
I nod and head up the staircase with my bag. Opening the door, I step into a clear white room. Everything is so...clean. The queen-sized bed in front of an expansive window. The walk-in closet is in the corner. You guessed it, the doors are white as are the walls. The room is factually desolate.
"It's a bit bare, I'll admit. It's a spare room. I didn't want to decorate it without you." Gail tells me from behind me. "We can go shopping this afternoon. We need to get your school supplies anyway."
