A teenager whose friends die, leaving her their two-year-old child.
It was a cool, summer night; Sara Ater-Rosa took full advantage of the beautiful weather and was sitting outside on her front porch. The moon was full in the sky, and all sorts of animals were scampering around the lawn. A half smoked cigarette rested in the makeshift ashtray. There was a bottle of soda sitting next to her, with one hand loosely grasping it.
Her blonde hair was lit up beautifully by the moonlight.
Sara loved nights like this. It was nearing midnight, and her parents were sound asleep. It wasn’t hard to sneak out, she’d mastered that years ago. The problem came in if they went to check on her when they woke up at night for whatever reason, and found her not to be in the bed. They knew that she smoked. There was no denying it. Everything she owned smelled of the horrible stench of stale cigarettes. But she was soon to be 18, so they did nothing to stop her. There were only two rules: don’t smoke in front of them, and no smoking in the house. Sara was content with that.
But right now, there was something else on her mind. The teen had found out no more than an hour ago, that her best friend, Nieve Rosina, had died in an accident. Her boyfriend, Nicholas Ryder, had decided to steal a car, and she joined him in the joy ride. Timothy, the boyfriend, flipped the car 5 times. Nieve was thrown from the car, as was her idiot boyfriend. Their 2 year old daughter, however, was pulled out of the car with a few bruises; the young girl, Amber, had been safely buckled in her car seat.
But the main reason for Sara coming outside to enjoy the night air is that she was waiting for Amber to be brought to her. She had been named the one to take care of the child should both parents die; both of her grandmothers were dead and the grandfathers were in jail. So Sara sat on her front porch, waiting for the police to bring her her goddaughter. The only problem was that neither of her parents knew about this. They didn’t know the little girl existed. Sara had never been forthcoming about her life, and what she did with it. As far as she was concerned, her life was her business and nobody else’s.
“Ma’am?” A strong looking man addressed her, pulling her out of her daydreaming. He looked to be roughly in his early to mid 20’s. His thick black hair was cut in the traditional, military style. His bright blue eyes stared directly into her own chocolate brown ones.
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