I was startled awake in the middle of the night from Quinn's screams. I could hear Uncle Sam's voice attempting to soothe her back to sleep. Poor Uncle Sam, forced into a role he never asked for and it was all my fault. I tried to fall back asleep but was overwhelmed with guilt. I made impulsive, irresponsible decisions and now Curtis and Quinn were suffering (because of me). It was so unfair. I climbed out of bed and made my way to my Dad's room. I gently pushed the door open a few inches and peered inside. I was surprised to find him propped up against his pillows reading on his phone, the light from the phone glowing onto his face. "What's up kid?" he asked without looking up. (Ugh! How did he do that?)

"Oh, I ummmm," I hesitated as I pushed the door open the rest of the way. He lowered his phone and clicked on the small, metal lamp beside his bed. "It's nothing, sorry I bothered you." I turned and was about to exit the doorway when he ordered me to stay put. I awkwardly turned back to face him.

"Libby, what's going on? Why are you creeping into my room in the middle of the night?" His tone seemed annoyed which made me feel even more uncomfortable.

"I...ummm...I...ugh...I don't know," I stammered.

"Did Quinn wake you?" he asked with less annoyance to his voice.

"Yeah."

"Sam's got his hands full with that one," he commented. I nodded in agreement. Every time I found myself feeling resentful of the time he spent with Quinn, I had to remind myself that it was my fault. My Dad moved to one side of the bed and patted the spot next to him. "Do you want to hang out for a little while?"

"Yeah," I replied eagerly as I squished into the bed next to him. "What are you reading about?" I asked as he pulled one of his pillows out from behind him and set it behind me.

"Looking for ideas on how to help Curtis," he replied as he leaned back and focused on his phone again.

"Oh." I sighed and leaned back on my pillow. I laid there quietly for a while and watched as he scrolled through websites on his phone. "Dad?" I questioned several minutes later.

"Yeah?" he replied, still engrossed in an article he was reading.

"Are you going to punish me for what I did?" I asked. I knew it had to be coming and the anticipation was driving me crazy, plus I was hoping it would help with some of the guilt I was feeling. I watched as he set his phone down on the nightstand and then shifted his body so that he was facing me.

"What do you think?" he asked firmly.

"Well...I thought for sure you would, but it's been so long, now I don't know and...well...I just want to get it over with if you are," I finished quickly, my eyes filling with tears. "I feel so guilty and I don't want to feel this way anymore."

"Don't worry Libby, I'm not about to let you off the hook," he replied firmly. "I just haven't had any time to talk to Uncle Sam about your punishment."

"Ok," I replied quietly. "Are you going to spank me with your belt this time?" I questioned worriedly as I thought about his last threat. I frowned and crossed my hands on my stomach. I looked down at my hands and tears crept from the corners of my eyes onto my pillow.

"I haven't decided," he stated and then paused for a moment. I could feel him staring down at me and I refused to make eye contact with him. "Libby, do you realize how serious this is?" he demanded, his tone strengthening.

"Yes, I think about it ALL THE TIME!" I snapped.

"That's 1," he warned.

""Ugh," I sighed with annoyance. "Why do you always have to get so authoritative?" I crawled out of his bed. On my way out, a pillow fell. I picked it up and impulsively slammed it down onto the bed next to him. I regretted it the moment I did it.

"That's 2," he stated sternly, sitting upright. (Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!) "Temper tantrums are not going to solve anything. You should know that by now. If you want to have a discussion, we can. But if you're going to act like this, then you should go back to your room." I hesitated for a moment and then turned and headed for the door.

"Goodnight," I said with my back to him and then proceeded out the door without waiting for a response. I peered into Curtis' room on my way by. I could hear him snoring or maybe crying, I couldn't be sure. I resisted the urge to go in and comfort him. He hated me now. Everyone hated me. (Maybe I should just run away? No one would care. And then they can keep Curtis and Quinn since they deserve a family more than I do.) I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night. I tossed and turned and couldn't get the idea of running away out of my head. I loved Dean and Sam, but I caused too many problems for them and they didn't deserve it. And besides, they weren't my real family, as much as I wanted them to be.

Sam came into my room early the next morning and told me it was time for me to get back into the routine of schoolwork. He handed me a new schedule and a list of my daily assignments. My first reaction was to protest, but then I thought the distraction might be good. "Libs, I want you dressed and ready to get started in an hour," he stated before he hurried out of my room. I missed my Uncle Sam and the little talks we used to have. He didn't have time for me anymore. It was all about Quinn. I could feel tears fill my eyes. I trudged out of bed and into the shower. When I finally made my way into the kitchen, Curtis was sitting at the table with Dad and they were having a conversation about classic rock music. I stood back and observed. Curtis even managed a few smiles. I finally coughed to let them know I was there.

"Thanks Dean," Curtis said as he looked at me quickly and then stood up from the table. It was great to hear his voice even if he wasn't talking to me. He didn't even look at me as he passed by and I felt a lump form in my throat. I looked over at my Dad for support and he already had his face buried in his phone. I grabbed a raspberry yogurt from the refrigerator and headed to my schoolwork area in the library. I was well into my second hour of schoolwork when I was completely frustrated with my Math. I grabbed my assignment and headed to look for my Uncle Sam. I finally found him in the garage playing kickball with Quinn. At that moment I was overcome with jealousy.

"Hey Libs," his voice echoed from the other side of the garage. "Did you need something?" Quinn giggled as she tossed the ball in his direction. Sam refocused his attention on her. Without saying another word, I turned and stormed from the garage, slamming the door behind me. I paused briefly and tore my Math assignment into several pieces and then proceeded down the hallway. In a wave of fury, I began ripping the glass picture frames of dead Men of Letters people from the walls. They crashed onto the floor and glass shattered every where. I could feel pieces of glass digging into my bare feet. I continued on my path of destruction as I made my way to the Library. I felt like I had loss all control as I began pulling books from the shelves and tossed them in every direction. Once I cleared one shelf, I moved onto another.

"Libby! What the hell?!" boomed my Dad's face. "Sam! Sam! I need your help in here!" I felt my Dad's arms wrap around me from behind as he yanked me away from the book shelf. "Knock it off Libby!" he demanded. "Your feet, they're bleeding!"

"I don't care!" I cried out as I dug my nails into him and tried to pry his hands off of me. I began to kick violently in the air. "Let me go!" I demanded.

"Libby!" It was Uncle Sam's voice. He was in front of me now and trying to grab hold of my legs. After I kicked him a few times, he was able to capture both legs in his strong grip. I couldn't move now, but it didn't stop me from trying.

"Let me go!" I screamed.

"Libby stop!" my Dad's voice boomed in my ear.

"Let's get her in her bedroom," Uncle Sam suggested. I looked over his shoulder to find Curtis and Quinn watching my meltdown.

"Libby being bad!" Quinn yelped.

"Shut up!" I screamed back at her.

"Curtis, grab us some towels," Uncle Sam ordered urgently. I looked down at Uncle Sam to find blood covering his hands and shirt. His eyes met mine. "Honey, you need to calm down," he said gently. Tears filled my eyes. "Come on Libs...calm down and we'll talk. This isn't like you." I felt myself being carried and then we entered my bedroom. They placed me down gently on my bed, still holding on to me. "Ok Libs, we're going to let you go. Are you going to stay put?" Uncle Sam asked. "I want to clean up your feet and see what the damage is."

"She'll stay put or her feet won't be the only thing hurting right now," my Dad commented angrily from behind me.

"Dean, not now," Uncle Sam sighed as he looked quickly in his direction.

"Come on Sam, she just threw a world class temper tantrum," my Dad argued angrily.

"I know," Uncle Sam agreed. "And we'll take care of that after I find out where the bleeding is coming from." Uncle Sam looked down at me. "Are you going to stay put Libby?" I nodded my head yes. "Good girl," he said as he released the hold on my feet. My Dad was still behind me on the bed, but he too slowly released the grip he had on me. Curtis entered the room with several towels and handed them to Uncle Sam who began to gently dab away the blood. "Thanks Curtis, can you fetch the first aid kit?"

"Libby, what the hell was that?" my Dad demanded as Uncle Sam continued to inspect my feet. Dad was next to my bed hovering over me.

"I don't know," I mumbled. I looked up at him quickly and then looked away.

"I hope you have a better explanation than that," he growled.

"Libby, stay still," Uncle Sam commented. "Dean please, I need her to stay still. She has a few pieces of glass stuck in her feet." I watched as Curtis came back with the first aid kit. He handed it to Uncle Sam and then left my room. I waited patiently as Uncle Sam took care of my feet, flinching every now and then. My Dad hovered above me the entire time. "Well...it doesn't look like you need any stitches. I bandaged up a few cuts and I think I got all the glass out. You should be fine. How are you feeling Libs?"

"I'm ok," I replied. "Is it ok if I sit up?" He nodded his head and stood up from his crouching position on the floor in front of my bed.

"You have a big mess to clean up out there young lady," my Dad commented with a huff. "Care to explain yourself?"

"No," I mumbled, not looking at either of them.

"All right...fine...put some shoes on, grab a broom and dustpan, and clean up your mess," Dad ordered. I crossed my arms against my chest. "Now!" his voice boomed. I flinched and started to slide out of my bed. "You're in a lot of trouble kid," he mentioned with frustration. (Ugh! I know!) "But right now we need to get this place cleaned up because we're having visitors."

"Whose coming here?" I questioned.

"Diana and Theo Baldwin, the couple that offered the reward for the return of Curtis and Quinn," Uncle Sam replied. "They want to meet them and see if there's anything they can do to help."

I started picking up the books and then made my way to the broken glass but someone had gotten to it first. I figured it was probably Uncle Sam. He was so anal about everything which made me smile. I heard the doorbell ring and stayed away while they all gathered in the main room. I remained in my room on my iPad for a few hours. I was hungry and headed out to find Curtis and Quinn gone from the main room, but Uncle Sam and Dad still with the Baldwins.

"We'd like to spend more time with them and visit them more frequently," I heard Mrs. Baldwin say. I crept closer to the doorway so I could hear their conversation. "We can't have our own children and we've fostered a few throughout the years. We can offer Curtis and Quinn everything they've ever wanted." A pang of jealousy shot through me. (Stop it Libby, you should be happy for them.) Curtis and Quinn deserved this. I, on the other hand, deserved nothing. I was a complete f&$! up and I was pushing away the only people who loved me in long time.