Stoic lines in the eyes, anger in the hand.
A foster child, Jay Baker has been alone since birth. With no one to talk to, his journal pages become his family as he chronicles his journey toward adoption.
"Is it true you do not spank me because I am blind?" Father said nothing. Only his breathing sounded as Miles' heart sank. It was true, after all. It was not love; it was because he was blind. Disabled. Different.
Virgin vaguely recalled exchanging a rake for his fishing pole. Pa folded his arms as Virgin's shoulders slumped.
He was ten years old and already running from the blaze on the horizon where his parents and siblings, servants and friends burned in the flames.
The nursery fell quiet as the children stopped playing to listen to his answer. Miles looked in the direction of the governess's voice. "I want my mother." He felt strangely alone in this unfamiliar manor like a ship without an anchor drifting at the mercy of the tide.