Callie (earlier...)

I sit on Marcy's couch and listen as she prattles off about her last husband, husband number three. There's a hole in the arm of the couch and I can see the yellow stuffing inside.

This place is a dump.

There are water stains on the ceiling mold along the baseboards. Bill told me that foster parents have to get their houses checked before they are allowed to have kids in their home. Living standards need to be up to par in order to foster. I guess after the first inspection, this rule gets tossed out the window.

"...and then we danced the night away at this charming little restaurant in Tijuana." Marcy clasps her hands together, "It was perfect. Just wonderful!" She pauses for a moment and abruptly turns into the kitchen. I can't see her anymore, but I can hear the clinking of a glass and a liquid being poured. I hear a jingling noise and Marcy walks back into the living room, car keys in hand.

"I need to run to the store," she informs me as she grabs her purse from the coffee table, "You'll be okay right?"

"Yeah."

She grins and gets into my face, flashing those horrid teeth, "Such a good girl." The smell of vodka on her breath is strong and unmistakable. Marcy heads for the door and after blowing me a kiss, she's gone. I sigh and let myself sink a bit into the filthy couch. My body has begun to ache, the pain killers I had taken previously wearing off. I pull my bag towards me and rummage through it to get the pills. Once I have them, I take out two and swallow them dry.

I let my eyes slip close for a moment. I'm exhausted. I want to go to sleep so badly but there's something I have to do first. I stand up, letting out a little gasp at the pain that shoots through me. The pills haven't kicked in yet. I begin to walk around the house and search for a phone. I need to call Jude and let him know I'm coming for him. I finally find one attached to the wall. It's old and some buttons are missing but it will have to do. I pick it up and hold it to my ear: no dial tone. With a frustrated sigh I slam the phone back into its cradle. This lady probably didn't pay her bills.

Defeated, I head back to the couch to rest a bit. I fight it as long as I can, but eventually my eyes droop and I fall asleep.

The first thing I'm aware of when I wake up is that it's a lot warmer in the house then it was before. And what's that smell? Disoriented, I stumble to my feet and I'm stunned by the sight I see.

The entire stove is on fire.

I run to the sink and turn it on full blast. I grab a bowl from the dish rack and fill it to the brim before dumping it on the flames. Oddly enough, this only makes it worse. A flame laps out and gets my hand. I jump back, dropping the bowl to the ground as I do. I begin to search the cabinets for a fire extinguisher. I don't find one, and I don't know why I would get my hopes up.

I run to the phone to call 911 and I'm halfway there when I remember that it doesn't work. At this point, the smoke is thick and I'm starting to cough. Sweat drips down my back as the heat gets more and more intense. I head for the front door, planning to get help from a neighbor or something, and I'm surprised to find I can't open it. I twist the handle hard a couple times before giving up, slamming the wooden door hard with my hands in frustration.

Marcy locked me in.

Did she think I would try to escape or something? I don't have much time to think about this because the smoke is becoming unbearable at this point. I head for a window and try to lift it but the paint is making it stick shut. The situation begins to turn almost surreal, like something out of a movie.

Tears well in my eyes without warning at the thought that I could die like this, trapped in this house. But I can't die, not with Jude out there by himself. I look around wildly and spot a lamp. Pulling the plug from the wall, I take the end of it and swing at the window which shatters almost immediately. I knock off as much jagged glass as I can before climbing out.

Stef

"What's going on Stef?"

Lena is sitting up in bed watching me with concern. I must look completely crazy, dashing around the room grabbing everything I need as fast as I can. I'm trying to be quiet so that I don't wake up the kids but I need to move fast, too.

"Stef?" I whirl around on the spot and realize I never answered Lena, "There's been a fire at the house I dropped Callie off at today."

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

I knew there was something off with that house. Bill had called to tell me there had been a fire and nothing else, like if Callie was okay or not. He had been on his way to the scene and could not talk for very long.

"She didn't…you don't think she started it, do you?" Lena asks quietly, wringing her hands in the comforter. That sounds pretty plausible, considering Callie's file, but then again she isn't her file. The girl I met today would never do something so malicious. Especially when she knows what, or who, she could lose as a consequence.

I shake my head with confidence, "No," I answer, "Definitely not. I'm gonna go, Love." I swoop down to kiss her and turn to leave but Lena catches me by the wrist.

"Be careful," she says gently, stroking her thumb right over my pulse point, "Be safe." I nod and give her hand a squeeze before breaking off her hold.

I don't think I've ever left the house so fast.

I arrive at the scene and end up having to park down the block due to the fire trucks and squad cars parked haphazardly in the street. The smell of smoke infiltrates my nose. The house is a mess: one side is completely blackened and the three windows are broken. The front door is on the lawn and looks as though it has been broken off of its hinges.

What the hell happened?

"Stef!" I turn around to see Bill and I jog over to him.

"Where's Callie?" I ask him, and I can only imagine how frantic I look, "Is she okay? Is she hurt? How did this happen?"

Bill puts up a hand to stop my questioning, "The stove was left on. There was some spilt vodka on the counter that made is spread quicker and it got out of control."

"And Callie?"

"She's okay," Bill tells me and I allow my shoulders to relax, "She inhaled some smoke and she burned her hand but besides that, she's okay. The front door was locked from the outside so she was in the house for some time before she got out..."

"And where was Marcy this entire time?" I ask, annoyed that this happened not even 24-hours after Callie was placed in her care. How do you lock a child into a house? I'm shaking in anger at the thought.

Bill shifted a bit on his feet, "She was at a bar. She's been arrested for child negligence."

"Good." She deserves it, "Where's Callie?" Bill points to an ambulance and I speed walk over. The back doors are open and there she is, sitting on a gurney with an annoyed look on her face. She has an oxygen mask over mouth and nose and her left hand is wrapped in gauze but besides that she is fine. Her eyebrows furrow a bit when she sees me.

"Stef?"

I smile, happy that she has used my name without sarcasm for once, "Long time no see," I joke as I climb into the back of the ambulance, "You okay?"

Callie looks down at her worn out shoes, "Mm-hm."

"Must have been pretty scary," I say, trying to catch her eye, but she turns her head away with a sniff.

"S'not the worst thing that's happened."

She can't be serious.

She was just trapped in a house that was on fire and it's not the worst thing to happen to her? I don't even allow my mind to come up with scenarios that are worse than being trapped in a house that's on fire.

I put my hand on Callie's knee and she jerks away. I let my hand fall to my lap, "Well I'm glad you're okay."

Callie finally raises her eyes to meet mine and I see the confusion in them, the suspicion. I also notice that they're red and I don't know whether it's from the smoke, exhaustion, or possibly even crying.

She blinks and drops her gaze again, "Where do I go now?"

Instead of sounding scared as I imagined anyone would in this situation, she sounds resigned, just accepting her fate without any question and I get angry. Angry that the system has beaten her down to the point where she just goes through the motions of life with no regard of her personal feelings or well being.

I have an idea and I know I should discuss it with Lena first, but this seems like the only good option at the moment, "I have a new home for you."

"Where?"

"Just a few miles from here," Lena might just kill me, "It's mine."

Thank you all so much for the reviews last chapter! I'm surprised and humbled and feel so loved! :) I'm so glad you guys like the story! I'm sorry if chapters aren't as long as you'd like, I have very specific ideas of where I want things to end which is why some chapters may be shorter than others.

We only need to get through one more Monday you guys! I'm so pumped! Next chapter, Callie meets Mariana and it's pretty funny. Well, I think it is anyway.

Leave a review below!

-Liv