Mailbag:

GleeJunkie007: I'm so glad that you like it. In all honesty, I was kind of scared to write it and publish it. Thank you for being so supportive!

calired98: Thanks for the nice review, it means a lot!

Brynklie's third foster home was the same. She didn't connect with them, so she became distant and uncooperative. She hated therapy, and she hated homeschooling. She hated being in a strange house where she didn't feel safe. However, she managed to last longer there than in any of her previous homes. It took eight days, but she had a breaking point. Her foster mother, Kathleen, was fairly nice, but she had a short temper. Her foster father, John, was extremely strict, especially when it came to his house. It was filled with collectables and antiques that he and Kathleen had obtained over time, most of which she wasn't allowed to touch. In his house, everything had a specific place, and if it wasn't exactly where it was supposed to be, it was wrong. By this time, she didn't even bother to unpack. She kept her things in the same trash bag from the night she was taken away.

"Brynklie," John said, "Do you want to put your stuff away?"

Brynklie looked up at him.

"We got you some shelves and drawers, " he explained, nudging the bag with his foot, "And it would be really nice if you could use them."

Brynklie still didn't answer.

"I can do it if you want," John suggested, "I'd actually enjoy it."

He went to reach for the bag, but Brynklie grabbed it.

"Don't touch my stuff."

"Ok," John said, surrendering.

But it wasn't okay. Brynklie came home after a therapy session to find her room was immaculate, which was exactly how she didn't want it.

"Where's all my stuff?" she asked angrily, stomping into the kitchen where John was cooking dinner.

"Oh I put it all away," John replied innocently, "Doesn't it look so much better now, all neat and clean?"

"No it doesn't. I liked it where it was."

"In a garbage bag?"

"Where'd you put it."

"I threw it out. You don't need it anymore. You're with us."

Without answering, she went to the trash can and dug out the black trash bag, haphazardly flinging other garbage out of the can.

"Be careful," John said accusingly. Brynklie glared at him and stalked out of the room.

"Hey Ryder," Marley said, coming up to his locker

"Hey Marls," Ryder replied.

"Where's Brynklie?" she asked, "It's been a few weeks since we've seen her."

"Uh," he hesitated, "It's kind of a long story, and the bell's about to ring. I don't know if I'd have enough time to tell you the whole thing."

"Is she okay?" Marley asked, concerned.

"She is now," he replied, as they began to walk towards the choir room, "I guess I could tell you. Uh, well, after my mom died, my dad kind of started to, well, hurt Brynklie, and she didn't tell anyone for a really long time, and I had to tell Finn and he called child services and now Brynklie and I are in foster care and my dad's in jail." He said all of this very quickly and without looking at Marley.

"Oh my god," Marley replied, shocked, "And this all happened recently?"

"Like two weeks ago."

"Holy crap, why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I don't know. I just wanted Brynklie to be safe. I couldn't really think."

"Wait, if you're both in foster care, why are you here and Brynklie isn't?" Marley asked.

"Yeah, well, we're in separate homes."

"They split you up?" Marley, who was now visibly upset, asked.

"Yeah. I guess Brynklie needed to be with a family that specified in trauma, and I didn't."

"Is she okay?"

"I have no idea. I haven't seen her since the night we were taken away."

At that point, they had reached the choir room, so Marley dropped the discussion as they took their seats.

On the eighth day of living with John and Kathleen, Brynklie finally ventured out of her room. Her foster parents had left for the day, and she was alone. She wandered around the cold and quiet house, looking at all of their collectables hidden in their glass cabinets. One caught her eye. It was a figurine of a ballet dancer wearing a pink tutu, her china body frozen in an arabesque. Carefully, Brynklie opened the cabinet and pulled the ballerina out. She turned the doll over in her hands. She heard the garage door open and spun around. She darted back into her room, still holding the doll.

"Nationals is next week guys," Finn said excitedly.

"Where is Brynklie?" Harlow asked, frustrated.

"Yeah," Kitty added, "We need her for rehearsals."

Finn glanced at Ryder, who was quietly sitting with his seat, "It doesn't matter right now," He said quickly, "What matters in Nationals. We've picked our solo, group number and girls number. Now we just need to brainstorm an idea for the boy's number and we can start rehearsing and choreographing."

"BRYNKLIE," Kathleen bellowed, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Brynklie shoved the figurine under a pile of blankets and waited for the battle to commence.

"What?" She asked, innocently.

"You very well know what. We are missing a priceless ballerina figurine. Where did you put it?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Of course you did. I only remove the items from their cases when I dust them and I carefully document when I do this."

"You're crazy," Brynklie said, looking her dead in the eye.

"What?"

"You're clinically insane."

Kathleen stared at Brynklie for a few moments before she spoke again, "You know, I don't think this is going to work out," But Brynklie was already shoving her remaining possessions into the trash bag. She waited until Kathleen had left to call her social worker before she slipped the doll into the bag.

"Good job guys," Finn said at the end of class, "And good idea for the boy's song Bree."

They waited until the bell rang, and then all got up and left for their next classes.

"Ryder," Harlow called, catching up to him, "Where's Brynklie?"

Ryder didn't answer her.

"Come on! You have to know. She's your sister," she continued. Ryder still refused to answer her, "This isn't fair! My best friend has completely dropped off the face of the earth and nobody seems to care but me. Where is she?"

"I don't know," Ryder said loudly, stopping and spinning around to face Harlow.

"What?"

"I have no idea where she is," he replied. He was going to leave it there, but when he saw Harlow's horrified expression, he continued, trying to sound reassuring, "But what maters is that wherever she is, okay? She's safe. I don't know anymore than you do, but I do know that she's okay."

"I know it's been a really hard month for you," Owen said. Brynklie rolled her eyes, "But I think this is it. She's really nice. She's fairly young - well, probably not to you anyway - and single and she's not too far from your old town. She's open to getting you do dance if this works out." They drove until they came to a small with house with a porch wrapping around the outside. Owen led Brynklie up the narrow wooden steps and knocked on the glass door. It was almost immediately opened by a middle age women.

"Hi Brynklie," she said cheerfully, "I'm Lisa. It's so great to have you here." Brynklie managed a small smile as she followed her inside, Owen following close behind her.

A week went by and Brynklie was still at Lisa's house. She found that she like it there than at her past foster homes. Lisa let Brynklie do her own thing, while still connecting with her. Every night, Lisa made Brynklie help her make dinner and as time went by, Brynklie learned to enjoy it and even look forward to it. That night at dinner, Lisa brought up a topic that Brynklie both looked forward to and dreaded.

"So you've been here for an entire week," she began, "And you're doing really well with homeschooling and therapy, so I was wondering if you would want to try to go back to dance."

As she listen to Lisa, she began to think about things her dad had said about dance.

"You know what? You're quitting dance. It's stupid and time consuming and you're not even good at it. You don't need to be taking expensive classes when you're not even going to be able to do anything with them"

"I think it would be really good for you to go back," Lisa continued, "You've seemed really antsy and I don't want you to be going all stir crazy from being cooped inside for a few months."

"You shouldn't be asking me for anymore than I already give you. You're spoiled and don't deserve anything. You should be grateful for this. You're learning"

"NO," she screamed. Lisa's eyes widened in shock, "I'M NOT GOOD. IT'S STUPID AND TIME CONSUMING! IT'S EXPENSIVE AND I'M NOT EVEN GOOD!"

"Brynklie," Lisa protested, "You are good. I've seen what you do and you are an amazing dancer."

"I'M NOT GOOD," she shouted, standing up, "I'M SPOILED AND I SHOULDN'T BE ASKING FOR ANYTHING. I DON'T DESERVE IT."

"BRYNKLIE!" Lisa said, raising her voice above Brynklie's, "Sit."

She waited for her to sit before she spoke again, "Brynklie, I'm going to be straight with you because you're older. You can handle it. Your father did horrible things to you. You know that. He was wrong to do those things. He was wrong to hurt you and he was wrong to say those things. You are an amazing dancer and it's worth the time and money because you're good at it. What's more is that you enjoy it and that's the most important thing. And you aren't spoiled and you do deserve special things because you've earned it. Your dad was wrong to say that you haven't. You're always worth it, okay," Lisa said. Brynklie began to cry. Angrily, she wiped the tears off of her face, "It's okay to cry. Don't ever be afraid to show your emotions. How about we try to get you to dance tomorrow. Just once for now to see how it goes."

Brynklie nodded, still crying. Lisa got up and went around the table to give her a hug.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Lisa said, pulling the dance studio parking lot. Brynklie nodded. "Alright. I'll be right here when you're done."

Brynklie grabbed her bag and got out of the car.

"You'll do great," Lisa said encouragingly. Brynklie nodded, smiled and closed the door. Just before she went inside the studio, she looked back at Lisa and waved.

"Guess what," Harlow said, coming up to Ryder, "I saw Brynklie yesterday."

"You did?" Ryder asked frantically, "Where?"

"She was at dance."

"How was she? Is she okay? Does she seem weird or anything?"

"She seemed quieter but that's it."

"Did she say anything about coming back here?"

"No, but she said that she's only coming to dance-" the bell rang, "Oops, I have to go."

"Wait, you didn't finish," Ryder called after her, but Harlow was already gone.

That night, Ryder arrived at Brynklie's dance studio and waited for her to come out. He waited ten minutes, then twenty, then thirty until he gave up.

"Harlow," Ryder said, going up to her locker the next day, "Was Brynklie at dance yesterday?"

"No. I thought I told you yesterday, she only could go on Monday."

"Well you didn't. Why could she only go on Monday?"

"I don't know. I wasn't really concerned with that. I was in dance class."

"Well, did she say anything about coming back?"

Harlow shook her head. Ryder sighed, leaning against the lockers and running his hand through his hair. Harlow offered him a half smile and turned and walked away.

"Great job guys," Finn said, "We leave for Nationals in three days, so we just have to-"

"Wait," Mackenzie interrupted, "Don't we need twelve people for Nationals?"

"Well, yes we do Mackenzie, but we'll have Brynklie."

"But what if we don't?

"You just leave me to think about that," Finn replied nervously. The bell rang and everybody stood up to leave, "Ryder, could you come here?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Do you have any idea when Brynklie could be coming back."

"Not a clue. I haven't seen or heard from her in over a month."

"They can't separate you guys like that. It's not fair."

"I'd rather be separated than have her still being abused by him." Finn nodded sadly.

"You know what," Finn said, his face brightening slightly, "I may be able to contact her social worker. He'll able to figure out where she is."

Later that same day, Brynklie was lying on the floor stretching when Lisa walked in.

"Brynklie," Lisa said, "Someone named Finn Hudson called."

Brynklie sat straight up.

"What'd he say?"

"Apparently, your singing club has a big competition next week and they need you. I said you'd think about it."

"I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Lisa asked, "Don't you want to think about this?"

Brynklie shook her head, "I hate not being with them. I want to go back to school."

"Well, I spoke with Owen and he said that you aren't ready to go to school, but he did say that it would be good for you to do some stuff outside of the house, which is why he let you dance, and he thinks that doing this competition would be a big step if you're ready."

"I'm definitely ready."

I'm sorry that this is so much shorter than last week's chapter, but I've been kind of short on time.