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him when he was scared or lonely. At the Hines’, he came to me for everything and even at Grandpa’s, he ended up in my bed most mornings. When Mrs. Pace told Lena Jamison that she had found him sneaking into my room, the caseworker noted in our files that a psychologist needed to evaluate us for sex abuse. If any worker had bothered to review our case, they would have realized that at the age of three, Luke already had lost his biological mother—whom he had barely known—then Mrs. Hines, and now Adele. Seeing Grandpa shot or our hasty removal might have traumatized him. Now he was in a congested home with strangers. He received no loving, individualized attention from a parent figure. I was his security blanket—nothing more—and none of this had anything to do with sex. However, sex was a hot-button topic and I think caseworkers liked to gossip about it, even if the accusations were ridiculous.
    The Paces ran the Perfect Angels daycare center in Plant City, where the younger children went while the older ones attended school. I wished I could wear my angel wings that Adele had made, but of course they had been left behind. In the afternoon the school bus dropped the school-age kids off at the daycare center; and then we all went home when the center closed. We were a needy bunch of baby birds who had fallen out of our original nests and were desperate for any scrap of attention. We each found ways to be noticed. Luke hid under the bed at bath time, threw food on the floor, and bit other children. When Mr. or Mrs. Pace swooped down flapping parental wings, he was getting precisely what he wanted.
    In early September, Adele wrote me a long letter saying that she had washed my dolls’ clothes and that my “babies” were doing fine. I miss you both something awful, but I know you are well and taken care of. She said her granddaughters were enjoying school, that her grandson had started pre-K, and that Ms. Hurley was holding a spot for me in her class. Adele went on to tell me that Uncle Sammie and his girlfriend, Courtney, had stopped by after visiting with Uncle Perry. When I was there, we had gone to see Uncle Perry in prison as though it were a typical family outing. She closed with, I love you both so much … always and always. Love, Mama.
    The letter made me miss Adele but also wonder what had become of my mother. I convinced myself that she was coming for us, which is why we had to stay in Florida. She was somewhere out there … nearby … I just knew it! 41
     

    It turns out Mama was in the women’s state prison and Dusty was in another jail in Florida. In the meantime, Adele was making good on her promise to become a licensed foster parent. Grandpa had moved out and she was getting the property in shape. Adele wrote that the hen with the feathers on her feet was sitting on seven eggs. I was desperate to be there when the chicks hatched. I could not understand what was taking so long for Adele to get us back. Adele had my dolls, dresses—everything that mattered—so I was confident I would be leaving any day. In a corner of my mind I had realized that my mother was unreliable, but Adele was a loving grandmother who had always done what she said. My mother, my grandfather, and Adele detested the state people, so I did too. If they would stop meddling in our lives, we would be fine.
    Lena Jamison came to Perfect Angels for a visit. “I have your inoculation records, so you can go to kindergarten,” she said in a singsong voice. “Won’t you like that?”
    “No, I’m supposed to be in Ms. Hurley’s class.”
    My first day of kindergarten at Lopez Elementary School should have been a special event, but since it was already October, nobody fussed. The class was busy coloring P s for “pumpkin.” Adele had promised to make me a princess costume for Halloween, and I kept hoping I would get back in time—just as we had the year before. Unfortunately, the holiday came and went with only some candy at the