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women to head back to the living room.
    My backpack. It’s all I have at the moment. No clothes, no other shoes, no other belongings. Even my backpack is worn and dirty. I’m afraid to set it down on this white carpet, afraid that one false move will have me out on the street or somewhere worse. I mustn’t do anything to make Shelley angry with me. I hear the muffled conversation of the women in the other room and I decide to step forward to examine the contents of the bookcase. There are dozens of books on every shelf, shiny new books that look like they’ve never been read. My heart jumps at the sight.
    I’ve always loved reading. The ability to escape and get lost in someone else’s story is thrilling. I’m comforted by the sight of all of these books and the possibility that I may get to read them. I sit on the edge of the bed peering around the room in wonder. I’m interrupted by the sound of someone calling my name. I quickly stand and make my way down the hallway where the women are.
    â€œBathe her right away,” Debby says quietly. “And watch for lice.” She stops talking as soon as I appear and smiles. “Bernice, it is time for us to go now. Mr. and Mrs. Thiessen will take good care of you.” And just like that, the front door closes behind them, leaving me and Shelley Thiessen alone.
    â€œI know this must be so hard for you, Bernice,” Shelley says. “My husband Luke will be home soon and you will meet him too,” she says awkwardly. I stand in silence, nodding. “We will go out and get you some more things, my poor dear. Some new outfits, some new shoes, and other things you will need.”
    I don’t know what to say. I have no idea what this all means. Am I staying here forever? Will I never see Jacqueline or my home again? How will I get all these new things? Do I call her Shelley? Is she my new mom?
    â€œWhy don’t we get you cleaned up?” she says. I immediately stiffen. “I can run a nice hot bubble bath for you,” she says. She walks down the hallway and pulls out a thick, plush towel from the linen closet and enters the bathroom. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, she turns on the faucet and then pours in a silky liquid from a bottle. From where I stand I can smell the fruity aroma of the suds and see the steam starting to rise from the tub. I start to feel my knees knock together again.
    Shelley is humming and rearranging toiletries, seemingly oblivious to the terror I feel. She sets a neatly folded towel on the edge of the sink, within easy reach of the bathtub.
    â€œIt’s almost done.” She waits for another minute or so before turning the faucet off. Then she says, “It’s all ready, Bernice.”
    But I’m frozen on the spot and I don’t know what to do. My entire body is trembling. Once she realizes that I’m not coming, Shelley turns towards me, her smile slipping from her face.
    â€œIt’s okay, honey,” she says. “Nobody is going to hurt you. Let’s just get you cleaned up and you’ll feel much better.” Sensing that I’m not sure how to proceed, she adds, “You get in and get comfortable and I’ll just check on you to make sure you’re alright in a few minutes, okay? Just call me if there is anything you need.”
    I nod, hesitating for a moment before entering the bathroom.
    â€œThere is shampoo on the ledge of the bathtub and soap in the little dish. Will you need help washing your hair?” she asks. I shake my head no and timidly shut the door behind me.
    Shelley has no idea how long I’ve been washing my hair all by myself. Often we’d go days without water and I’d be unable to bathe. When I started to smell, I’d try to wash up in the girls washroom at school, hoping no one would come in and see me. I’d cup my hands together and fill them with water under the tap, quickly tossing the water on my hair