The Detective’s Undoing

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At six years old, Delia Scanlon knew everything she needed to about control.

Having it was the only way to survive.

As she hung upside down from a low branch on the tree outside the group home where she lived, her long blond hair swept the grass. Next to her hung her two foster sisters, Zoe and Maddie.

Actually, Maddie wasn’t hanging; the quiet, sweet little girl was too timid for that. She sat, gripping the branch for all she was worth, very carefully watching the ground beneath her.

Zoe, who was not quiet or sweet, hung by one leg, calmly inspecting the torn knees of her jeans. Upside down, she popped a huge bubble and casually said, “I’ve got three lollipops under my pillow.”

Delia’s mouth watered and she went all warm and fuzzy inside. She knew Zoe would share-that’s how it was between them. Maddie and Zoe were more than her foster sisters; they were her life.

It wasn’t easy being in the group home with too many kids and too few caretakers, but they were fed and clothed and safe. And they had each other. It was enough for Delia, who just wanted to be with Zoe and Maddie. They were family, no matter what everyone told them.

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