Patrick caught up with me before I made it to my room with Scott trailing behind him but not as close as my "brother." "Have you almost died before, Blaire?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper so that only he, Scott, and I could hear. "At the orphanage, have you almost died during your time there?"

I gave him a weird look before I looked forward, ignoring the small growl that came from behind me. "I am not going to be talking to you about that right now," I said, making sure that my voice was at the same level as his. "There are still kids around, and I don't want them to hear anything about it."

Patrick shrugged and looked nonchalant about what I had said. "There are only two kids in the house," he said. "Jace i-"

"Jace is sixteen, and the twins, Mick and Mack, are fifteen," I said, interrupting him. I held back an eye roll when he playfully glared at me and pressed my lips into a thin line. "Jill told me yesterday."

"And how old am I?" Partrick asked and flashed me a smirk and a wink, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that comment because we had this conversation yesterday where he was not happy that I was older than him by a day.

"Seventeen," I replied coldly. "You are one day younger than me."

"And I am still not happy about that," Patrick grumbled teasingly and folded his arms across his chest with a pout on his face. "How the hell did Mom find someone that was a day older than me and adopt them? I enjoyed being the oldest before you came along and ruined everything." He flashed me a small smirk and a wink, silently telling me that he was just playing and didn't care that I was a day younger than him.

I shrugged and grimaced, not phased about him teasing me. "Magic," I said sarcastically and waved my hands in front of me in a jazz hand fashion, earning a small snort from the man behind me. "How about you, Scott?" I asked and turned to look at the other male, who had been far too quiet through this whole thing between Patrick and I. "How old are you, and what day were you born?"

"September 21st," Scott said and offered me a tight smile, "and I am seventeen, too, and I will be turning eighteen next month."

I didn't say a word and slowly nodded, pressing my lips into a thin line. I could feel his gaze on my back but didn't say a word about it while I continued on my way to my new room, growing anxious because I had no idea what surprise they, well mainly Jill, had in store for me.

Oh, Gods, please don't let it be as expensive as they aren't saying it is...

I didn't know how I could repay them back if it was.

Patrick snorted and rolled his eyes, and I couldn't help but look at him with a small scowl on my face and narrowed his eyes. He grinned and subtly bowed his head while amusement filled his eyes. "Nervous?" he asked and raised an eyebrow in question while he studied me. "Is that what I am sensing coming from you?"

I didn't say a word and turned to look the opposite way, not saying a word about if I was nervous or not, even though we all knew that I was.

"Come on, Blaire," he said with a small laugh in his voice, and he nudged my arm teasingly. "You're family now. You don't have to be nervous about this. It's not like it is going to kill you."

I bit back a tired sigh and shook my head, moving a hand through my hair and across my face before I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "It's not that it's going to kill me. I know that it isn't going to kill me, but..." I shrugged and grimaced, pressing my lips into a thin line while I trailed off.

"It's not something that you are expecting?" Scott asked and raised an eyebrow in question while he studied my back.

I hesitated and slowly nodded while my cheeks turned red. "It's... what? August now?" I asked and furrowed my brows, biting the inside of my lip.

"It's the third week in August, yes," Scott said and nodded in confirmation. "Declan's birthday is next week."

I nodded, and my heart ached and became filled with pain and sadness because I already knew that Declan's eighteenth birthday would be next week. "I know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, and squeezed my sides a little but not enough to hurt me or the bruises that I had, which were slowly healing. "I know that his birthday is next week. It's usually been a shit day ever since he had left, even if he had tried to send me stuff to try to contact me and let me know that he was still safe and sound."

"Hmph." Scott set his jaw and pressed his lips into a thin line, and I had this feeling he didn't like it that Declan's birthday had always been a shit day for me since he had left. "Why does it being August have to do with anything anyway?" he asked instead.

"I have, well, had four months left before I was going to be kicked out of the orphanage," I said and shrugged, biting back a small grimace. "I had nothing, was going to have nothing then, and would have had five months left before I graduated high school."

"So you would have been homeless?" Patrick asked and raised an eyebrow in question while he studied me, and I nodded in confirmation. "What would you have done?"

"Survive," I replied and shrugged. "I would have tried to get my kids to a safe place now that I was free from there and then survive on my own. That's all that I would have been able to do."

"But how?" Patrick asked, and I could hear the worry in his voice, even though I didn't look at him. "How would you have done all of that on your own?"

"Don't know," I replied and shrugged. "All I know is that is what I was going to do because the kids counted on me, and I wasn't going to let them down. I wasn't going to forget them like the others seemed to have forgotten about us."

"What happened to the kids that were living there but turned eighteen? Were they kicked out?" Scott asked and raised an eyebrow in question while he studied my back.

I nodded. "Some of them seemed to have lived great lives after all of that while others turned to sex or whatever to fund their life and survive. All of them didn't seem to remember us, though, which was annoying to say the least."

"And would you have turned to sex or whatever to fund your life and survive that way, or what?" Scott asked, and I could pick up something in his tone that had me turn to look at him, not sure why he would sound like that at all.

I scowled and narrowed my eyes, searching his face for something that I couldn't understand, and all he did was raise an eyebrow in question, even though a look of hesitation flashed through his eyes.

"What?" he asked. "What did I do?"

"What is with that tone of voice?" I asked and cocked my head to the side while I studied him with a frown still on my face. "Why did you sound so jealous?"

Scott didn't say a word and shrugged while his cheeks turned red. He glanced at Patrick before he looked at me, and I had a feeling that they were talking to each other in a way that I could not understand but was jealous of.

I scoffed a laugh and rolled my eyes before I turned to face the way that we were going. "No," I said finally, answering his question, and they both looked at me without saying a word. "I wouldn't have done that. I couldn't."

"Then what would you have done?"

"Survive," I said and shrugged before I stopped in front of my door. I took a deep breath and released it with a small shaky whoosh. "I would have survived on my own, doing what was necessary without selling myself to someone else."

And with that, and without letting him ask me how I would have survived on my own, I opened the door and gasped in shock when I saw what was in there.

Oh, Gods.