The story of us // EmmettxOcxRosalie

The world outside the car window was a blur of endless trees, a verdant tunnel stretching into the gray distance. I sighed, the sound lost beneath the hum of the engine and the music pouring into my headphones. It was a familiar ritual, this deliberate detachment, a way to create a bubble of anonymity around myself, even as the landscape hinted at another new beginning.

Behind the wheel, Vince Lorens, my sixth 'dad,' steered with a practiced ease, while Rhea, my latest 'mom,' sat beside him, occasionally turning to offer a soft smile. They seemed nice enough, in that eager-to-please way all prospective foster parents did. I'd seen it five times before. This time, it was six.

My longest stay had been a year and two months. The second family. They'd been different, truly kind. But they'd found another kid, a newer, more interesting model, and I'd been returned. The memory still left a faint, lingering ache.

I’d stopped listening when they’d talked to Avery, my favorite caseworker, about 'here.' But as a large, weathered sign appeared through the mist, its block letters declared my destination with stark finality: "Welcome to Forks."

A gentle tap on my knee jolted me. I pulled off my headphones. Rhea was smiling. "I'm sorry, honey. Didn't mean to startle you. Just wanted to say we're almost there."

I nodded, the unspoken truth hanging in the air: 'here' was Forks, and for now, it was home.