“Don’t you like it here, Emmie?”

“It’s great.” I frowned down at her bowed head. “But this isn’t our home, Olivia.”

“Ms. Liz said it was our home now.”

Oh, did she? I was really starting to dislike this woman.

“And Emmie… I like it here,” she said in a small, tentative voice.

Of course Olivia liked it here. All the toys in the world to play with, and Liz, who could pick her up and hold her hand.

She dropped the dolls. “I wanna stay here.”

I kicked one of the dolls, sending it clear across the room. It hit the wall and the head fell off in the process. “We can’t stay.” My stomach turned. “This isn’t our home.”

Olivia watched me, eyes wide and lips trembling. “But I like it here.”

“I know.” I pulled a hair tie off my wrist and yanked my hair up into a messy bun. The back of my neck felt damp. So did my forehead. “But these people are strangers, Olivia. We can’t trust them.”

“I trust Ms. Liz.” She climbed to her feet, her hands balling into little fists. “They’re nice to me. They said I’m gifted—”

“I don’t care what they say—dammit!” I dropped down in front of Olivia. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired… and I don’t know what to do.”

She took a step back, eyes wide.

I let out a sigh. “Olivia, I know you like it here. They have all this stuff to play with, but this is not our home. Our home is in Allentown.”

Olivia’s cheeks puffed out, a sure sign she was about to have a major throw down again. She picked up one of her dolls, a porcelain one with pink-painted cheeks. I so knew what was coming next.

“This is our house!”

“No,” I said quietly, coming to my feet. “This is a nice house, but—”

“No!” she screeched as she launched her doll across the room. The face cracked and a leg fell off. “No! No!”

I winced and rubbed my temple. “Olivia, knock it off. My head is pounding.”

“No! I don’t wanna leave! Ms. Liz—”

My temper snapped. “Ms. Liz isn’t your mom, Olivia. Your mom is upstairs! And if I say we have to leave, then we have to!”

Like a mini-volcano, Olivia erupted into a fit of screams and tears. For someone so small, she could make a lot of noise. Seeing her like this didn’t make me feel good. I felt terrible, like some kind of evil creature hell-bent on destroying all her dreams.

She hit the floor, stomping her feet.

I tried to get her to stop, but not being able to touch her complicated the whole process. So I stood by helplessly, hoping she’d just tire herself.

“Is everything okay? Sounds like a freight train coming through the house.”

A slender, dark-haired, and neatly-polished woman stood in the doorway.

It seemed a switch was thrown; Olivia’s temper tantrum shut off. Now on her feet, her eyes fastened on the woman. “Ms. Liz! I don’t wanna leave.”