Olive's P.O.V.
Ian's familiar Dutch colonial styled, white house with red shutters and bright red door came into view as I reached the end of the dirt road path. I missed this place with it's lush green grass, no matter the time of year, such soft grass you'd think you were walking on clouds. I parked, taking a deep breath, and calming my twirling stomach. I don't know why part of me was scared of entering that house. I was scared of the feelings it would stir inside me again. The want for a normal family, for the loving embrace of a nice family.
I headed towards the door, knocking on the thick cold metal. I could hear Ian yelling "coming" as he approached the door. It swung open to reveal his tousled hair and kind smile. A smile that wrinkled the sides of his eyes in merriment. He was
