This story is a sequel to "The Story of Hanna Light".

THE EVENTS IN THIS BOOK ARE AND PLACES HAVE BEEN CHANGED

TO PROTECT OUR FRIENDS,

WHO REMAIN SAFE

CIVILIZATIONS DO EXIST

THE SKY IS GRAY AND HEAVY. THE WOODS ARE DARK and cold. Most of the leaves have fallen from the trees and lie dead on the ground. A sudden gust of wind howls through the woods and violently rips leaves from their branch. They flutter to the ground.

"I'm sure you'll all be very happy here, Ms. Light."

I don't reply, and after a moment Mrs. Fisher continues, "You don't seem very excited about this. I assure you that this is a wonderful opportunity. . . . ."
She keeps talking, but I ignore her. She'd been going on like that for close to three hours now, ever since she met us at the airport. She kept using words like "remunerative" and "sentinelle", and I don't care much. But I don't need her to tell me what a great opportunity this is-I know. We all do.

Twenty minutes later, the driver pulls into a driveway. A pair of wrought-iron gates swing open, and the driver pulls through. The gates close behind us, and my sensors go on precautionary alert.

It takes almost a whole minute to get to the house. The limo makes its way dow the driveway and winds under beautiful arching trees. Red and yellow leaves flutter gently down onto the car.

"Well, here we are," she said, pulling around a corner. "I hope you like it."

We stare out the car windows. The house looks like a painting. It has rounded river rocks on the bottom part, and clapboards above, and a big screened porch that covered almost the whole front. Large shrubs circle the yard, and some of them still have faded hydrangea blooms.

The car pulls up to the front of the house and the driver cuts the engine. We pour out of the car, glad to be in a wide-open space again.

"The air smells different here," says Madison, wrinkling her nose. "It smells great."

The house stands on the top of a low hill. Sloping away from us are wide lawns and an orchard. The trees are actually covered with apples. Birds twitter and sing. I couldn't hear traffic, or smell road tar, or hear any other people.

"Hanna!"

I turn just as Logan throws me my black duffle bag filled with the few articles of clothing I own. He slams the trunk shut and dusts off his hands. The other kids stand there with empty arms.

I turn back around and find Mrs. Fisher still sitting in the car. Her long legs and high heels hang over the side of the leather seat.

"You're not coming?" I ask. Not that I really wanted to talk with her anymore, but I had kind of expected her to introduce me to someone.

"I'm afraid not," she says with another warm smile. "I have many more things to do today. If I go inside, then we'll all get to talking, and I'll never get out of there." She picks up several envelope from the seat and hands them to me. Our names are typed on the front in tiny letters. "Social Services has created birth certificates and other further legal documents that you kids may need."

"Oh and I almost forgot." she grabs my hand, places a small object in my palm and then folds over my fingers. "The Titans wish for you to have this." She lets go of my hand and I instantly slide the mystery object into my back pocket. "This will be the last time we will be speaking Ms. Light so, stay safe."

I smile "Thanks."

Ms. Fisher nods and without another word, closes the car door. I catch my reflection in the tinted black window and I watch the sleek black limousine pull out of the drive way. It melts into the darkness of the woods and disappears.

I readjusted the bag hanging uncomfortably on my shoulder and turn back around. My family watches me with wide eyes mixed with different emotions. Fear? Anxiety? Hope? A mix of the three? I can't tell.

I force a weak smile and walk up the three porch steps to the front door. "Well here goes nothing." I mutter under my breath, extend a trembling hand, and rap my knuckles across the doors polished wood surface. I back down the porch and rejoin my friends, nervously awaiting for someone to answer the door.

5 seconds. 10 seconds.

Logan claps his hands together. "Well! No ones home! Let's go!"

I roll my eyes and we wait. Finally, after what seems like forever, the sound of shuffling feet is heard on the other side of the door. I lick my lips and watch the glass in the window turn dark as someone walks behind it. Theres the sound of several unlocking deadbolts and finally, the door opens.

My nervousness is instantly replaced by shock.

Standing in front of me is a tall, well built man with sandy blond hair and calculating green eyes. He wears an army green T-shirt, light brown caky pants, and a pair of loafers. An thick blond mustache perches on top of his upper lip.

His stunning green eyes pass over us and he smiles; revealing a set of perfectly white teeth.

"Hey, you must be the Light children!" He exclaims "My name's Oliver Queen. Come on in.". He holds the door open and eagerly awaits our entrance.

I readjust the bag on my shoulder and take a hesitant step forward. Logan brushes past me.

We go inside and he takes us on a tour. It's a great house. A classic family home with 4 bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor, an attic which had been fixed into a bedroom, and all of the living spaces—the living room, dining room, kitchen and family room—on the first floor.

"You kids can decide on what bedrooms you want. It doesn't matter much to me. I've moved mine downstairs so the second floor and the attic is all yours." He walks back to the stairway that goes upstairs and turn to us. "Dinner will be ready at six and as for the house rules, well, there are none. As long as you kids don't act like animals, we'll get along fine.".

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