Sherry gets placed with a nice family in Illinois, a church-going couple who have a large property on some deserted farmland in the middle of nowhere. The hospital staff wake her up one morning with sickly grins, saying "you can go home today honey, a new home".

She kicks the comforter off the bed and sits up. The nurse smiles at her, hands her a carton of orange juice. Sherry gulps it down, feeling it burn into her stomach. She hasn't drank from a juice box since she was five years old, but they treat her like a kid here, babying her and patting her head. She misses Claire, more than she misses her mom.

The nurse hands her some clothes, and Sherry is glad to see that she's allowed to wear something that isn't a paper-thin hospital gown. It's a pair of blue jeans and a plain pink v-neck, probably off the bargain rail at Target, but she feels better wearing them. More like herself, whoever she is.

The nurse hands her a plate of toast, and tells her to hurry up, her new family will be here soon. Sherry nods, unable to hide her grin. It's not that she's excited to be superglued on to some new family, she's just relieved to be leaving the hospital. Ever since she and Leon were taken in to government custody three weeks ago, her life has been full of rituals and examinations and questions and drugs. She briefly thinks that doctors push more drugs on her than her parents ever did, then quickly remembers that she's not supposed to joke about that, not now.

She dresses quickly, and finds that though the clothes are designed for a twelve year old girl, they are much too big for her. She slips into her battered old school shoes, and shuffles up to the help desk on her ward.

"S'up girlie?" Wanda who works behind the desk is friendly and upbeat, and has always taken a shine to Sherry.

Sherry grins at her, doing her best to play the sweet little girl. She knows which buttons to press. "Do you know what happened to the red motorbike jacket I was wearing when I came in?"

Wanda crosses her eyes in thought, which has always made Sherry giggle. "You know what kid, I think it was taken as evidence. The police officer took it from you, right?"

"Yes ma'am." She remembered the man's large moonish face, the cool glow to his eyes. He'd frightened her. He'd taken the jacket in order to trace Claire, no matter how many times Sherry had sworn he'd never find her. Sherry smiles at Wanda, remembering her manners, and shuffles away.

Claire gave her that jacket, for good luck. Some good luck she's had so far, Sherry thinks as she jumps up on the bed. She lies back on the pillow, thinking that her time alone won't last long and she might as well make the most of it. She stares at the white ceiling, white walls, horrible white floors. It reminds her of her parents' lab, and Mr Wesker's oily hair.

She hears footsteps, and looks up into the eyes of a smartly dressed social worker.

"Hello Mr Reynolds," she says politely. He grins at her as though today is the greatest day ever.

"Sherry, I have your foster parents with me." He gestures to the end of the ward, and a nervous couple walk in. Sherry assesses them. They are middle-aged, primly dressed, quiet, but otherwise perfectly nice people. She tries to stare them down, but feels guilty when they smile at her.

"Hi Sherry," says the man. She waves at him.

The woman lets go of her husband's hand and comes to stroke Sherry's arm gently. "Hello there, sweetheart, you're going to stay with us for a while, is that okay?"

Sherry nods, feeling sick. She can't work out why such a nice couple would pay her the slightest bit of attention. She wonders how much the nurses have told them. She wonders if they know what happened. She wants to tell them to run, run far away, because there are monsters in the world, and she's one of them.