April 17, 1998:
Joshua Lyman hung up the phone with a sense of trepidation. Well, trepidation and excitement, but mostly trepidation. A girl, he thought to himself. I know absolutely nothing about girls. Well, actually, I do, but not 10-year-olds. He glanced at the calendar. Only 14 days, he thought. Might as well get ready.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. "Dad? It's me. I just got off the phone with St. Anne's. You know, the children's shelter… Yeah, well, I'm going to take in another one. It's a girl. She's ten…Elizabeth Webster. They say she's really smart… Her parents abandoned her when she was six. No, she's never had a permanent foster home…14 days, on the 31st. Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I couldn't help that… Yeah, tell Mom for me will you? She won't think I'll be able to take another one. Thanks, Dad.
"NO!" Liz shrieked. "No, I'm not going!"
"Liz, honey, listen, you may never have another chance." soothed Ms. Gold, Liz's social worker.
"What's the point, he'll give me back anyway!"
"You don't know that, Liz. He wanted to take you."
"That's 'cause he never had an interview with me. No one likes me once they have an interview." Liz snapped.
Ms. Gold glared at the girl. "Well, you never give anyone a chance. Honest to God, girl, you drive them all away."
"No one would ever want me, so why do you want them to take me just to give me back? I'm not going!"
"Elizabeth Anna Webster! You are far too old to throw a temper tantrum. You are going to live with Mr. Lyman on the 31st and that's final!"
Liz raced out of the room, ran up the stairs two at a time, entered the girls' bedroom, flopped down on her bed and began to cry her eyes out. When the other girls looked up from what they were doing, she glared at them, as though daring them to ask what was wrong, and they quickly resumed their activities. The quiet, yet quick-tempered girl had no close friends at St. Anne's, since her arrival there four years ago, with her parents taking her there while she slept peacefully, abandoning her on the front steps for a startled newspaper delivery boy to find her the next morning. Her parents had made no effort to contact her, and the unsuccessful two-month search was quickly abandoned by the police when it was made clear that no one knew of their whereabouts. Liz refused all active efforts to place her in a foster home, as she now saw herself as unlovable. All the constant interviews with the police and social workers made it even more clear to Liz that her parents didn't want her, as there had been no fights, arguments, or disagreements preceding her abandonment.
Liz didn't show up for dinner that night, and instead went to bed early, dreaming of her previously happy family, now shattered. Little did she know that across town, Joshua Lyman was dreaming of the same thing.
Josh fitfully tossed and turned in his sleep. "No, please, it wasn't my fault. I'm sorry," he mumbled as he turned over.
"Josh! Josh, where are you?" squeaked a little voice.
"I'm right here, don't worry!" Josh carefully reassured him.
"Josh, I'm scared. I can't feel my legs," the voice sobbed.
"Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to you. Everything's going to be OK. I promise."
"Where are you? Josh, help me!"
"AAHHH!" Josh woke up in a cold sweat. He gasped for air as he turned on the lamp beside his bed. A voice, sounding strangly like his own whispered, "Josh, what have you done?"