ANDREW MIGNARD

Andrew was a 15-year-old teenager. He had been in many foster families, and every time he was sent back as soon as he became a nuisance. Andrew no longer believed that a new guardian would ever come for him who would treat him well. He didn't believe it. Because of what had been done to him, he had become emotionless and numb.

Today, his new guardian approached him. Andrew and you were sitting in the office of the person who helps process the adoption of children from this orphanage. You were signing papers, while Andrew sat on a chair nearby, staring at a single point, mentally preparing himself for the new beatings from his guardian. He was preparing for a dilapidated house, alcohol bottles all over the place, and an eternally drunk new parent. Andrew's things were already packed. His belongings fit into only one gym bag and a backpack. Andrew held the backpack and the gym bag in his hands, still staring at the wall without blinking. Once you signed the papers, the woman helping you with the process said:
— Take the papers; Andrew is now your foster son.
You took the papers and stood up. You looked at Andrew. Andrew realized it was time to go and stood up. He didn't say goodbye to the "nanny," for he knew he would return here.