The teenagers sat on the sofa, while Mrs Turner called her husband. They couldn't hear the words being spoken, but could hear it was a heated conversation.
They both swallowed when they heard her heels on the hallway floor, indicating she was heading back their way.
"Your father is on his way." Mrs Turner said, standing still in front of the teens. "I suggest you come up with a good reason as to why you're here and not in school."
The three sat in silence, both teenagers afraid to look Mrs Turner in the eye. The older woman read a magazine, sighing every few seconds. Every time she did, Timothy shifted in his seat.
Everyone stood, when they heard the front door open again.
A man Emma suspected to be Timothy's father, walked into the room. He frowned, looking at the two teenagers. "You better have a good reason, young man." He told his son. He turned to Emma. "And who are you? And how do you know each other? I know most of the families in Poplar, but I don't think I've ever seen you before." Mr Turner said.
"I'm not from Poplar. It's a long story. Your son was only helping me." Emma swallowed. "It's a bit hard to explain."
"Here." Timothy grabbed the backpack and handed it to her. "Use this."
Emma's hands shook as she accepted her bag.
"Are you okay, dear?" Mrs Turner asked, concerned. She felt a sort of connection to this girl, she couldn't quite place.
"Not really." Emma said. She took a few calming breaths. "I'm sorry. It's been a crazy 24 hours."
"Come, sit down." Mrs Turner said, pulling out a chair for her to sit on.
"Why don't you start at the beginning? I find it to be the perfect place." Mrs Turner encouraged her.
Emma took a deep breath before she started. "My name is Emma Miller. I am 15 years old." She paused before continuing. "I was born in 2002."
Mr Turner frowned. "Don't be playing games, young lady. This is no laughing matter."
"She's not, dad." Timothy interrupted. "She really is from the future. She can prove it, here." He grabbed the bag from the table and laid out her cell phone, her reading book, her wallet, and her jacket on the table.
Emma picked up her wallet and handed Mr Turner her id card.
The adults looked at the objects, before looking at the girl.
"Is this real?" Mr Turner asked softly.
Emma nodded. She cleared her throat. "Yes. I don't know how, but yes."
Mrs Turner closed her eyes and said a quick prayer.
Mr Turner sank down in a chair. "How?"
"I don't know." Emma said, close to tears.
"Hey, it's okay." Mr Turner said, leaning forward. He patter her hand. "I'm sure we can figure it out."
"I'll make us another cup of tea." Timothy said. He disappeared into the kitchen.
Mr Turner looked at his wife. She still hadn't said anything. He sighed before turning back towards the teenage girl. "What do you think happened?" He asked.
"I don't know." Emma took a deep breath. "I was walking in the forest, heading to school. Everything was fine, and next thing I know, I hit my head against a tree. I know it sounds absurd, but the tree came out of nowhere." She shook her head. "It wasn't until I came to the other side of the forest that I realised something big must've happened. And I realised I wasn't in Reigate anymore."
"Reigate?"
"That's where I'm from. My hometown." Emma shrugged. "Somewhere south of here. It's where I was this morning."
Timothy entered the lounge, carrying a tray with three cups and a teapot.
Mr Turner smiled. "Thank you, son."
Timothy sat down in the seat next to Emma.
"Have you made any plans, yet?" Mr Turner asked.
"I don't think it's quite sunk in yet. I mean, it's obvious everywhere I look. But, in my mind, it doesn't seem real. I just, can't quite understand that I'm not going back."
"Maybe you will." Timothy said. "Once we figure out how you got here, we can work on finding out how to get you back."
"Thank you." Emma said softly. She didn't share his optimism, but she can't deny the tingle of hope that's blossoming in her stomach. She swallowed. Maybe it wasn't hope after all.
"I'm sorry. Could I use your bathroom?" Emma asked.
"Of course." Mrs Turner said. "Go back to the front door, it's the first one on the left."
"Thanks." Emma stood up, and walked out of the room.
"So," Timothy asked, as soon as Emma was out of earshot. "What do you think?"
"We can certainly offer her shelter, until we find a more permanent place." Mr Turner said.
"Why can't she stay here?" Timothy asked. "She's my friend. Besides, we have plenty of space. She can share our room."
"Of course she can stay here." Mrs Turner said. "But it's not entirely up to us."
"And, don't think I've forgotten about you skipping school." Mr Turner warned his son. "We'll continue this conversation later."
Timothy nodded. He didn't look forward to the spanking, but he didn't regret the actions that landed him in hot water.
The trio grew silent as they heard the bathroom door open again.
In the bathroom, Emma leaned with her back against the door. What is she supposed to do, now. She needed to go, before she had a full blown panic attack. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her raging heart. All this talk about her options has made her scared. She took another deep breath, before flushing the toilet.
"I have to go." Emma said, walking back into the lounge. "I still have to find a place to stay tonight." She picked up her bag.
"Why don't you stay here?" Mrs Turner asked, standing up. She looked at her husband before looking at Emma again. "We would be happy to be your parents, even for a little while."
"I don't want another mother." Emma said, angrily. "I have one. And I can't handle another one. I'm fifteen years old. I don't need a parent. I just need a place to stay."
"You're still just a child, Emma." Mrs Turner said, trying to calm her down.
"I've seen too much to still be a child." Emma said.
"We understand that." Mr Turner said. "But to the world, you are still a child and needs someone to take care of you." He took a step closer to Emma. "Let that be us."
Emma sighed as she closed her eyes. But she nodded. "Thank you, Mr Turner."
"Patrick, please." He replied.
"And you can call me Shelagh." His wife added.
Emma smiled. "Thank you. It won't be for long."
"It will be for as long as needed." Shelagh said, squeezing Emma's hand.
The newly formed family sat around the table. A plate of biscuits for them to share.
Emma shifted in her seat. "I have to give you something back."
"What do you mean?"
"Like, clean the house or something. I need to earn my keep."
"You'll have chores, like Timothy. That's all."
"But what about clothes? Groceries?"
"Don't worry about any of that." Patrick said. "From now on, you're our daughter and we will look after you."
"If it makes you feel better, you could always help out Patrick at the clinic."
"Of course." Patrick confirmed. "We're always in need for more hands."
Emma nodded. "It would. Thanks."
"Good. Then that's settled." Shelagh said. She stood up and smiled at Emma. "Why don't we look through my closet and find you something else to wear. And some pyjamas. We'll go shopping tomorrow."
Emma nodded, standing up as well. "Okay."
Shelagh walked up the stairs.
Emma followed her. She looked back at Timothy, who smiled reassuringly back at her.