Chapter VII

The Beginning

Sara took a sip of her coffee, she wanted something stronger. She sighed and closed her eyes. "It all started when I was sent to a new foster home...I went into the system when I was about 13, never got back out...so I had just turned 16...

San Fransisco

1988

"Sara Sidle, age sixteen. Ran away from Tamales Bay foster home approximately two months ago. Nothing on her rap sheet and nothing with her but this bag." Sara hated the way the cop handed her to the social worker. Like she was a piece of meat, or a dog at a show...or a burden. They were both cogs in the machine that was the California Family and Children Services System... The System. She did her best to look uninterested. She stared out of the small office's window and kept her face still and quiet. Yes, she'd run away from Tamales Bay. There was only so many looks one girl could take. In Tamales Bay she was marked. She would forever be the girl who's mother stabbed her father to death. At least in San Fransisco she was another nameless face stuck in a failing system.

The bored and undistinguished social worker looked her over. "Thank you, Burke. We'll take her from here." When the cop left, it was just the two of them. "Take a seat, Sara." It was the first time he'd addressed her by name...or at all. She cocked an eyebrow, "I prefer to stand." Usually that statement was a good way of gaging people. How they reacted to that told her how they were overall, usually at least. He shrugged, obviously he'd peaked and burnt out years ago. "Well, Sara. We're going to get a foster home lined up for you..." Then he opened her file up. Within five minutes he was looking at her differently, his flat green eyes had gone wide...and people wondered why she'd run. She'd been taking care of herself just fine too. She'd still be out and about, if the cops hadn't raided the warehouse she'd been squatting in. They'd been looking for coke-heads, she'd just been sleeping.

She was vaguely surprised to see that the San Fransisco Family Services Office had gone to computers. The office back in Tamales Bay had still relied on dead trees. So Mr. Dwighten tapped a few keys and suddenly she was just another bit of digital memory. "Well, I've found a placement for you. Good school and a pretty good neighborhood. You're lucky, you know." Yeah, that's what they all said, she was lucky.

So she waited in an uncomfortable chair in the hall, staring into space. Mr. Dwighten had told her that if she ran again, they'd label her as a habitual, which would land her in a group home...or Juvenile Hall. Since she'd heard more then one horror story about Juvie, she figured that if she ran again, she just wouldn't get caught again. Her new foster family...the Rogers. She was being fostered by Mr. And Mrs. Rogers. It was fricking ridiculous.

Sara blinked, bringing herself back to the present. Her coffee had grown cold. Catherine looked at her, the other woman's blue eyes were unreadable for the moment. Sara shrugged under her scrutiny. "Let's just say it wasn't such a beautiful day in the neighborhood for me."