Hot showers always used to help fix my problems. After a long tiring day, out in the world, I could always come home to a hot steaming shower to wash it all away.

So after waking up from a terrible dream into a terrible reality, I knew a shower would be the first step to me figuring things out.

Except I was wrong.

In this case, the shower made things worse.

Much worse.

I had turned the shower on the highest temperature I could go without burning myself, so the mirror had steamed up pretty quickly. I had also taken my clothes off quite hastily, eager to jump into the hot spray, so I didn't see it before.

It was only when I was in the water did I look down and catch sight of my body. I jumped from shock and slipped, landing on my bare ass with a shriek.

My hands touched scars that were never there before on my skin. I counted six. They were all pink straight lines, not even a centimetre thick, with a slightly darker outline. They all had sharp clean edges and were scattered across my abdomen.

I had seen these before.

They were knife wounds.

Immediately my not-really-a-dream flashed back through my mind, and I clutched myself, hugging my knees as I cried on the shower floor.

I had been stabbed!

Six times!

I didn't know how much time had passed as I sat there under the water. At some point my body had become too exhausted to produce tears so I had simply sat motionless. It was only when the water turned cold that it had shocked me out of my daze and forced me to get up.

Numbly, I had dried and dressed myself, sitting back down on my bed. I didn't want to go back out there and face those strangers, but I needed more answers if I wanted to make sense of this situation.

With a couple of deep breaths in, I braced myself and headed back towards the living room I had stumbled into earlier.

I could hear the clicking of cutlery so I followed the sounds into the kitchen. As I entered the space, three pairs of eyes fell on me.

"Amani, so glad you could make it. I wasn't sure if you'd be joining us," the woman from earlier smiled. She ushered me over to the breakfast table, gesturing to the seat opposite her that was free.

Carefully, I took it, glancing at the young girl besides me that stared at me. The red head woman cleared her throat, drawing my attention.

"Iris, I know you didn't get to meet her yesterday," she began, addressing the girl, "But this is Amani, our latest addition to the family." The girl, Iris, did not resemble either of the two adults at the table.

"Amani," she continued, "This is Iris, our first child."

"And I'm Elijah," the man added, giving me a warm open smile. He had black hair with matching dark features and pale olive tone skin. "Iris here calls us Pops and Ma, but feel free to just call us Eli and Sam."

I nodded, finally having a name to call the woman by.

Sam handed me a plate of pancakes and I politely took one, still too uncomfortable to eat. I nibbled on my food, simply listening to the adults converse. Their conversation was light and open, leaving me plenty of chances to join in, but I could barely muster up the energy to do so.

Iris was also silent, but from the corner of my eye, I could feel her staring at me. I turned to her eventually, offering a polite smile but before I could speak she interrupted me.

"Ma and Pops adopted me," she stated in that matter-of-fact tone that only a child could speak in. "But you're not adopted. They only fostered you. So you're not my sister," she finished, giving me a smug look as she crossed her arms over her chest.

I could only blink at her in response as the adults rushed to scold her and apologise on her behalf.

I wasn't offended, not at all.

But while Sam and Eli both looked at me with wide apologetic eyes, I took my chance to say what I had been meaning to say.

"I don't think I should go to school tomorrow. I'd like to take this week off to adjust and settle so I can start next week better prepared."

They didn't hesitate before agreeing.

"Of course Amani, take as much time off as you need," Sam said, reaching over to give my hand a squeeze.

"That's not fair!" Iris protested, throwing her fork on the table. "Why does she get to skip school but I can't!"

Eli reached over to move her cup of juice before she could knock it over in her rage and tried to calm her down.

"Iris, you're not being fair. This is a big adjustment for Amani–"

"It's a big adjustment for me too! I don't want her here!" She cried.

I decided it was my cue to leave, so I silently got up and headed back to my room. I closed my bedroom door with a sigh and flopped back down onto my bed, wondering what I was going to do now.