The rattling of the stopping train snapped Ben out of his daydreams. He adjusted his shirt and wiped the sweat off his forehead. Sitting across, Archer Pensworth smiled at him encouragingly. "Ready?" Ben just nodded quietly. Accross, The older man with gray hair took out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead. When the train came to a screeching halt, a scramble broke out in the compartment. Ben was pushed out into the station with the crowd. As he stepped off the train, he had to squint his eyes. The sun shone overhead, greeting him with a hearty wave of dry air. Briefly he lost sight of Mr. Pensworth, the little man had disappeared from his view with the flood of people. Panicking, he searched the crowd and fortunately found the older man leaning against a pillar, panting heavily, after only a few moments. While he caught his breath, Ben looked around cautiously.
I hope I don't stand out too much.His hopes were shattered. Not only did his completely white hair not match the face of a teenager, no, he was probably the only person in the entire London station who wore a shirt with long sleeves. And in fact, there was no obvious point in doing so. The almost unnatural heat wave had ruined any reason.When Mr. Pensworth had caught his breath, they made their way together across the station to the woman waiting for them in the shadows.If Ben had to guess, she was perhaps in her mid-twenties. Her long, wavy blond hair perfectly matched her white blouse and black jeans. Her sky blue eyes were hidden behind gold round glasses. Aside from an elongated gold earring, she wore no jewelry, frankly she didn't need to. When she caught sight of him, she smiled. It was a sweet smile. And it was a fake smile.Ben had already glimpsed her once, back when he was still living in the orphanage. She had only glanced at him and was already out of the room before he had the chance to say anything. She had smiled the same way then. Just as sweet and fake. Ben knew the difference between an honest smile and a fake one. He recognized the cold eyes that smiled more out of pity than actual joy. And yet, somehow, she had taken him.Mr. Pensworth shook her hand and smiled.
"I'm happy everything worked out." He sounded genuinely glad.
"The pleasure is all mine." Her voice had a melodic sound. Ben thought he heard an accent in it but it was too faint to determine exactly. The man nodded happily, visibly pleased with himself.
"Well then, I'll be on my way back." He turned to Ben. "This is Claudia Morthenbourgh and she has agreed to take care of you, my boy. Be a good lad, and don't go fooling around, see this opportunity and take it."
"Don't you want to join us and stay the night?"
The man waved the idea off.
"I have to go, later I have an appointment with other potential foster parents. My train is leaving shortly and everything is settled here. Take care my boy, we won't see each other for a while."
He nodded to Ben one last time and left him alone in the shadows with his new guardian. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, the woman looked him in the eyes.
"Glad you're here."
She was still smiling, but this time a little wider, a little more sincere. Her voice sounded almost relieved.
"Hello." Ben said uncertainly. Strange. Isn't she a little too young to be adopting others? Her smile changed a tiny bit again. This woman was a mystery. She looked up at the sky for a moment. After a few moments of silence, she continued speaking.
"I suggest we get going, it's getting late and it would be good if we make it home before the sun sets. Do you need help with your backpack?"
Ben shook his head; he didn't have a lot with him.
Silently, they fell into a trot through countless shady alleys full of motels with flickering signs. Ben was sweating. His shirt was a little too tight.
On the way, they passed a dead crow. Ben wrinkled his nose and carefully nudged the carcass off the sidewalk with his foot. He had heard that the streets here were dirty, but he still wasn't prepared for all the trash.
Finally, they stopped in front of an old house just in time for sunset. The untamed front garden had visibly suffered from the heat. The plants hung dull and listless, their leaves withered. A stony path wound between them, spiked with weeds it led to a massive wooden door.
The woman took out an old key stained with rust. After a powerful jerk, the door opened with a loud creak.
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