Evelyn's p.o.v.
" Here you go, Evelyn!"
Silas' voice came from behind, ending our little battle of banter. I turned my attention to my foster dad and plastered a smile on my face.
“ Open it,” he said excitedly before handing me a haphazardly wrapped package. I took it from his outstretched hands and stared at the pink wrapping paper with uncertainty as Silas bounced on the balls of his feet.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s like you’ve never seen a present before Open it!”, Silas instructed.
And I knew his words were meant to be teasing, but he had no idea how true it was. I don't know when was the last time I saw a pretty shiny wrapped-up box like this in my hands.
I’d had presents before; I wasn’t completely neglected. But it was before Mamma died...since I'd been eight, no one
