READ FIRST
Please read Charity another Joan of Arcadia fan fiction that I wrote to fully understand this one. Thank you.
Chapter 1
"I'm just another fallen angel," Charity sang to herself. She played with the idea and then scribbled it down in her notebook and then strummed on the guitar. She scribbled the notes down on the five lines on top of the lyrics.
"That sounds good," Joan said, walking into the bedroom she shared with her new foster sister, Charity Andrews.
"Thanks," Charity replied.
"What's the song called?"
"Fallen Angel."
Joan nodded. She sat down next to her on the rollaway bed and read the lyrics. She looked at Charity, it had been almost a week since she moved in with her and her family, and now that she thought of it, Charity did look like a fallen angel. Even though Charity's mother, Nadia Andrews was arrested and could no longer hurt her she dressed in completely black clothing, but then again the good thing was that the bruises on her face and arms were fading, however the burns and cuts would leave scars.
Luke knocked on the open door. "What's going on?" he asked.
"Writing a song," Charity said, innocently.
"Listening to her writing a song," Joan said. "Not much to do on a rainy Saturday."
Luke nodded.
"Where's Kevin?" Charity asked. She had already practically adopted the Girardi family as her own, considering that she came from a broken home.
"Watching the news," Luke said. "Mom's at grocery store."
"Guys, come here! Dad's on TV!" Kevin exclaimed.
Joan and Charity stood up. Charity removed the guitar from around her neck and sat it on her bed and she, Joan, and Luke ran into the living room.
"What's going on?" Joan asked.
"Sh," Kevin said. He turned the TV up. "Officer Girardi, would you explain to us what has happened?" a reporter asked.
"Well, so far all we know is this house had been broken into, a woman has been killed and the woman's neighbors are questioning me on the whereabouts of the little girl," Will replied.
"Little girl?"
"About six or seven, shoulder-length blond hair, brown eyes, was the description I received."
"Oh my God," Charity replied. "That poor girl."
"Look forward to updates," the woman reporter said. "Now over to Orlando Martin with the sports."
Kevin muted the news and wheeled around and headed to the kitchen. "Jerks! Who cares about sports when there's a little girl out there?" he said, to no one in particular.
"I agree with Kevin," Charity replied.
"So do I," Luke said.
Charity sighed and turned and walked back to hers and Joan's bedroom and Luke went to his room.
Joan walked over to turn the TV off when the sports guy held up a notebook reading "JOAN! TURN THE TV UP!"
She hit the volume button and the sound came back on.
"Thought I'd have to write you everything I was going to say," he replied.
"What's up?" she asked.
"You saw that didn't you?"
"About the girl?"
God nodded. "Her name is Briana," He replied.
"Great! Who has her? Where is she?"
He shook His head. "Can't say, Joan," he said.
"What's the point of telling me stuff when you 'can't' tell me everything?" She put "can't" in quotation marks.
"That's just the way it goes."
Joan sighed and stepped away from the TV and turned and walked back to her bedroom.