The Arrival
Layla was sitting on the edge of her bed, tracing lines in her notebook, when she heard the front door slam and voices downstairs.
Another intake.
Her stomach fluttered. New kids came in sometimes, but they usually didn't stay long.
That night, Mrs. Harris introduced her to a girl a few years older, maybe eleven or twelve, with sharp eyes and hair tied back in two tight braids.
"This is Mariah," Mrs. Harris said. "She'll be sharing your room for now."
Mariah gave a small wave, her expression unreadable. Layla mumbled hello, unsure if she should smile.
---
The Bond
Over the next week, Layla learned Mariah wasn't like the others. She wasn't quiet like Andre, or cruel like Kevin. She was bold, almost reckless — sneaking cookies from the jar, rolling her eyes at Mrs. Harris, whispering jokes at night when the lights were out.
"You're too good," Mariah teased one night, pulling the blanket over her head to hide their giggles. "They'll walk all over you if you don't speak up."
Layla shrugged. "Being good makes them keep me."
Mariah's eyes softened in the dark. "Being good doesn't matter. They still move you when they want."
The words chilled Layla, but Mariah's voice made them feel less scary. For the first time since losing Jayden, she had someone who felt like hers.
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The Plan
One afternoon, while they were supposed to be doing chores, Mariah whispered, "If we ever get split, we'll meet at the park two blocks over. Deal?"
Layla's chest tightened. "What if we can't?"
"Then we'll find a way," Mariah said firmly. "Don't let the system decide for us."
For the first time in months, Layla felt a spark of hope — not just for Jayden, but for herself. Maybe she didn't have to be alone forever.
---
The Loss
But hope never lasted long.
Two weeks later, Layla came home from school to find Mariah's bed stripped bare. Her drawer was empty, her things gone.
"Where is she?" Layla asked, panic rising in her chest.
Mrs. Harris sighed. "Her caseworker moved her. New placement."
Just like that. No warning. No goodbye.
Layla stood frozen in the doorway of their room, staring at the empty bed. The silence felt heavier than ever.
That night, she lay awake, clutching her stuffed bunny in one hand and the memory of Mariah's laugh in the other.
---
The Lesson
She pulled out her notebook and wrote furiously, the pencil digging deep into the paper.
Rule #1: Don't get attached.
Rule #2: If you do, they'll take it away.
Her hand trembled, but she underlined the words anyway.
Because in the system, even promises made in whispers under the covers couldn't be kept.