Legend Has It Book I ~{COMPLETE}~

“Genevieve! Dinner is almost ready. Can you run upstairs and tell the others?” Her voice snapped me out of the conversation in my head. Juanita was a kind woman who ran Willow Tree, the orphanage in which I was raised. She wore her graying hair in a bun and blue aprons because,she said, they made her brown eyes blue. She was tall for a human woman—she boasted she was 5’ 10”, and at 12 years old, I was almost as tall as she was. My height was starting to gain attention and I had been trying to gather the courage to ask her how I came to be here at the orphanage. I was just starting to become self aware and to question things, especially my sanity. My wolf’s voice was becoming stronger, though I didn’t know at the time what I was. I made the mistake of mentioning a voice in my head within hearing distance of blabbermouth Stephanie—another orphan who was about to age out of the home. That girl was a pain in my ass!! After I was sent to counseling, I didn’t speak of the voice to anyone at Willow Tree again. ::I can smell the cancer on her:: The voice in my head murmured that afternoon. Juanita never let on that she was sick. Perhaps she herself didn’t know, but I was still young, even for a wolf shifter, and at that time, I had no clue what I was capable of. I was beginning to think I was crazy. How would I know what cancer smelled like? ::Ask her questions.:: The voice was insistent. She surely knows how you got here:: I looked at the warm smile on Juanita’s weathered face, knowing that I was the crowd-appointed leader of the other children because of my yet unknown inherent ability to lead. “Go on, my beautiful daydreamer. Tell the others so they can get the table set!” Juanita was kind, but insistent and difficult to disobey. ::I’ll ask her later:: I assured the voice. ::You don’t have much time left:: My wolf was sadly right. Juanita passed in her sleep a few weeks later and my entire earthly life was changed forever. ::If you thought Juanita knew how I came to be here, then why don’t you know the answer?:: I demanded the voice in my head. I had noticed I was beginning to interact more and more with it. ::Because, like you, I am still young. I am still very weak:: ::You’re a figment of my imagination is what you are:: ::And for that reason, even if I could tell you, you wouldn’t believe me:: Shortly after Juanita was found, still in bed as if sleeping, the house was full of strangers. Police officers and social workers, a coroner and a man from a funeral home. Elizabeth was the stern, no nonsense social worker who commanded all fourteen of us orphaned girls to remain upstairs. She smelled of vodka and cigarettes, but I didn’t dare mention this in front of the others. I instinctively knew I could smell things the other girls couldn’t. “Genevieve,” little Mary sniffled. “Are they going to separate us now?” We all knew Juanita was the glue holding Willow Tree together. There had only been a couple of others who had been as passionate as Juanita was about us, but life had carried them away. “I don’t know, Mary,” I said, pasting on the smile Juanita had taught me. I took and squeezed Mary’s little hand. I could, however, hear the voices below—something else I instinctively knew the others could not do. Though it was a little difficult to separate the conversations, I knew the social workers were making calls. Making arrangements for us children. It didn’t sound as if we would be staying here. I looked around the room four of us shared. Our dark stained bunk beds were a sharp contrast to the soft, butter yellow walls. The bay window was lined with sheer ivory curtains in a fleur de lis pattern I just then noticed. A pale blue pad placed on the wide window sill served as a nice spot to read. I had spent many hours there reading and never noticed the pattern on the curtains. “Yes, there’s 14 girls who need homes tonight, but four in particular.” Elizabeth’s frustrated voice floated up to my ears. She hates her job, I remember thinking. ::She hates children:: “Yes, this is that wretched place we’ve tried to shut down for years. I’m sure the old bat has corrupted these girls.” Why would Elizabeth think that? In another room below, from the general direction of the kitchen, I heard another voice say, “I have room in my home for four of the girls. My husband and I just finished additional rooms...” “Have you applied to be a foster parent?” A male voice this time. He had interrupted the female with his question. “Not yet. Juanita and I were just in the beginning stages of making arrangements. We planned to retain an attorney in the very near future,” the female replied. Though farther away from where Mary, Catherine, Francis and I waited, I thought I recognized her voice as that of the first officer to arrive this morning. I liked her. She smelled of gunpowder, but also of lilacs, tea and something else I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “There’s a lot of paperwork involved, but with your position, you’ll probably pass the background check. What about your husband? Is he in law enforcement, too?” “$50,000?” Elizabeth’s hushed but loud whisper drew my attention back to her. “For four girls? You know the three girls under eleven are worth that EACH.” I remained still, expressionless so I didn’t alarm my three little roommates. They were the ones under eleven. What did Elizabeth mean? They were worth $50,000 each? ::Remember that book on human trafficking?:: The voice in my head caused my mouth to snap shut. Were my roommates, whom I considered little sisters, about to be sold? And who was the fourth? ::Pack four small bags. I think we may have to run:: Run?? Where?? {~>*•**•**•**•*Author Note~This story is written but is still in rough draft stage. I work on it a little almost every day so you can expect frequent updates. Chapters will be shorter in case this ever goes PTR so they aren’t as expensive.