Where was she?
Was it safe?
The door. Or even a window. If she could look out. If she could see. Then she’d know.
Oh but what if it was the apartment in Manhattan or the farmhouse in Wyoming? What if there were hard hands groping in the dark, yanking her from sleep?
“Delaney. It’s okay, honey. You’re safe.”
She was?
“You can go anywhere. Do anything.”
She could?
“You don’t have to stay here.”
But—she did. That was the problem of the foster care system in its entirety: You had to stay. No matter what. Until you were eighteen. There were rules. So many rules, and so many people who ignored them or, worse, obeyed them. She wished she and her friends could have their own safe place. Not just one, either. But that meant surviving; that meant turning eighteen and then working to make it happen.
But … she was eighteen. And … maybe older?
Wasn’t she?
“Of course, you’re a grown woman. You don’t take shit from anybody. And you go wherever you want, every day.”
Could it be true? Oh, please let it be true. She wouldn’t ask for anything else if she was safe. Being alone wasn’t so bad if she was safe. She wasn’t greedy. She hated greed. She’d never ask for more than she earned.
“You deserve everything in the world, Delaney, and wanting to be safe and happy isn’t greedy. Won’t you please come back to bed? You’re only wearing one sock.”
One sock? But that was ridiculous. And these thoughts—these tiresome, constant worries she had—they weren’t ridiculous. They were scary. They were real. If something was ridiculous, it must be a dream.
So this was a dream.
This was a wonderful dream.
“Okay,” she said, and the ridiculous man who chased away the scary stuff seemed pleased, and that was nice, too. She let out a small giggle, but the ridiculous man didn’t mind at all, which was more proof—not that it was needed!—that he was ridiculous.
More proof this was one of the nicest dreams ever.
Almost as good as the ones where she could fly away.
“C’mon, honey. You and your one sock, won’t you come back to bed?”
Well, sure. Grand idea! One sock! Ridiculous man!
“Okay,” she agreed, and felt herself tucked in and kissed, very lightly, on the forehead. A ridiculous spot for a kiss! Which was the point!
Better than the dreams where she could fly. And once she’d decided that, she tumbled back down into sweet dark sleep.