It was a rescue mission years in the making.
That night, Cassie slept in a real bed for the first time she could remember.
It had clean sheets and a quilt that smelled like lavender.
There was no shouting from the next room.
No fear of what the morning would bring.
When she woke up, the smell of bacon and coffee filled the house.
Margaret was in the kitchen, humming.
She’d laid out clothes for Cassie on a chair.
They weren’t new, but they were clean and they fit.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Margaret said with a smile that reached her eyes.
Cassie just stood there, overwhelmed.
This was a life she never knew was possible.
A life that had been stolen from her.
Going to school on Monday was the hardest thing she’d ever done.
She expected the whispers, the stares.
But something was different.
The fear was gone.
Brittany, the girl who’d made “Trailer Trash Cassie” her personal project, cornered her by the lockers.
“So,” Brittany sneered, “got yourself some scary new friends?”
Cassie looked her straight in the eye.
She didn’t flinch.
She didn’t look away.
