'HER EYES ARE UNUSUALLY red,' I thought when I saw her up close. She brushes my blonde hair with her fingers. Her skin feels ice-cold when it accidentally touches my ears, making me shiver.

"Mary Jane," she cries softly. Her arms wrap around my frame. A tropical, spicy scent lingers when she comes closer. I also realize that even her scent is uncommon yet captivating.

She looks at me intensely. My whole body becomes stiff. I find her crimson eyes unsettling. "I am very sorry, my child, I shouldn't have abandoned you." She mutters.

My biological mother's proximity allows me to take note of her beautiful appearance. She has long, wavy chestnut hair flowing gracefully under her emerald hat. Her skin is glass-like and healthy-looking. If I were unaware of her whereabouts, I would've mistaken her as the same age as I am. Her waistline is ideal; she has this hourglass figure that some women dream of. Her physique matches her expensive-looking green dress. Her beauty is divine. But what sets it off is her intense crimson eyes.

Sister Margaret couldn't help but sniff amidst her bawling. She's the most soft-hearted among all of the nuns here at the Foster Care. Her eyes are full of tears and adoration. But deep inside, despite the sudden appearance of my biological mum, I feel nothing. An apprehensive instinct of mine tells me that my so-called 'mother' is odd.

Sister Margaret sniffs the load off her nose. "Are you taking Mary with you today, Lady Devana?" She asks.

My mother, Lady Devana, gives me a look that shows delight and excitement. She nods her head before taking a step back. "Yes, I will take her with me. I will also come back next week to arrange the paperwork."

"I understand. But perhaps you might want to let Mary Jane bid a farewell to her foster family before going?" Sister Margaret suggests.

Lady Devana glances at me. I can see that she's having second thoughts before she finally agrees. "Alright then, I'll just wait inside of the car."

Her cold hands cup my cheeks, mouthing an 'I'll wait' before making her way out of Foster Care.

When my biological mum is out of sight, I glance at Sister Margaret. She gives me a reassuring look, encouraging me to share my thoughts. "Sister Margaret, I," I fumble. "I am frightened. She appears to be mischievous,"

"Mary Jane," Sister Margaret reprimands. "She is your mum; do not call your mother mischievous, for it is against the teachings of our Lord and our values."

I bite my tongue, deciding to just hold my opinions; Sister Margaret will never understand how I felt the moment I saw my 'mum'— the way that lady's crimson eyes burn holes as it stares unsettles me. It is odd. And terrifying.

I finally bid farewell to the other foster kids I grew up with. They all wish the greatest of luck for me, giving me charms and prayer booklets, which I accept gratefully. The other foster children gave me several sweets and their little congratulations, saying my mother had already found me.

"Mary Jane, I am quite jealous of you, to be honest, because you already have a mum." One of the foster kids admits.

'I have a mum all along, but she just left me for a moment, for God knows what.'

I wanted to say it, but I didn't dare.

When I am finished saying farewells to my foster family, I finally pack all the necessities; it only consists of three to five clothes that look severely tattered because rats keep consuming them. A hair-comb, which looks like a teether to canines. Three pairs of stretch-out socks. A pair of sandals that are given by the foster nuns. And my silver crucifix necklace.

Lady Devana, staring out from the car's window with her fiery red eyes, is not a sight to behold. The chauffeur opens up the car door. But before I get in, he swiftly takes my luggage. I just stand there, dumb-founded. I'm not used to being served at.

"My dear, get inside of the car now. It's quite cold outside." Lady Devana calls out.

I meekly made my way inside. This is the first time that I will ride a four-wheeled automobile. It was only a few years back when Sir William Bremer invented it. Almost all of the English men prefer its convenience. But I still prefer the traditional carriages.

The ride is silent until Lady Devana cracks up a conversation, "Your dress looks like it's been mauled by wolves."

I glance down at my dress. It is actually the most decent dress that I own. Some of the dresses are downright tattered and worn out. "I never have the luxury to buy dresses or shoes," I admitted. "These dresses are given to me by nuns who are taking care of us, they said that it is also given to them through donations."

Lady Devana looks sternly at my dress, "Well, we will change it later."

It is eerie and dark when we arrive at Lady Devana's house. There are tall Corinthian columns at the entrance of the luxurious house. The mansion itself is surrounded by tall black trees. The clouds surrounding the area were an ash-gray color. Despite its grandiose structure, the atmosphere is honestly depressing.

I swallow the lump in my throat. Unable to move or speak— I flinched when a crow banged on my windshield. Its wings are now dislocated, and its red pool of blood is slowly dripping at the glass. My eyes grow wide.

"Shall we?" Lady Devana asks.

"But there's blood on your car," I said weakly.

Lady Devana smiles unnervingly, saying, "Don't worry, I'll get the chauffeur to clean it. It happens every time."

She is the first one to get out of the automobile, and I follow afterward. My teeth instantly chatter when the cold air hits me.

My biological mother leads me gently to the front door. "There's a heater inside. We have very cold weather here, but you'll get used to it." Lady Devana said.

What caught my attention was the blood-curdling replica of a Nemean lion, which is embedded in the maroon-painted door. The thick silver ring is hanging on its somewhat golden canine.

Lady Devana holds the ring tightly in her delicate hands, banging the golden ring at the door. A fair maiden opens the maroon entrance a few minutes later.

"Welcome, my Lady,"

Her doe eyes are red, resembling the eye color of my biological mum, but hers are sweeter to look at. The young woman has a pale ivory skin. Her midnight blue hair is a perfect contrast to her complexion. It also suits her black maid uniform. She looks pretty for a household servant.

"Is he home?" Lady Devana asks.

"Master said that he'll be visiting Delham today. Master has taken his leave ten minutes before you arrive." The girl speaks professionally.

The young maid opens the door for us. As soon as I get in, the temperature suddenly changes. It becomes warm, almost tropical. It's quite humid but preferable to the revolting cold air.

The living room is much more blood-curdling; there are stone replicas of lions, winged creatures, and vipers, resembling underworld monsters. I wonder why there is no crucifix in here.

"It's a waste that your father is not here to meet you today. But he'll return after a few weeks." Lady Devana added, "I know you are mad at me since you thought I just left you there, Mary Jane. But I swear I will try to make it up to you."

I wanted to ask her why she left me at the Foster Care. And I wanted to know why, all of those years, she decided to suddenly show up. But I wanted to apply the value of biting my tongue before speaking an uncertain word and letting the other party open it up to you at the right time. But if there's no right time, then that's the moment that you can ask.

Lady Devana's lips curl up in a smile. She holds my hand, and the coldness of her skin is unbearable. But I try not to show my discomfort to prevent any offenses. "I'll send Naomi to help you settle."

"Thank you, Lady Devana."

A scintilla of affection illuminates in her crimson eyes. She kisses me on my forehead delicately.

"You're welcome, my child."

I wake up before sunrise. I glance at the clock and notice that it's the time when I usually prepare the meals for the other foster children. My heart aches when I remember my foster family. My mind drifts to their well-being. I miss serving them meals and seeing their jolly faces when I cook their favorite chestnut soup. But I have to move on. I have my real family now.

I gasp when the door suddenly opens. Lady Devana comes in, she reflects the same surprise expression on my face. "Oh dear, I am so sorry. I'm just going to check up on you, but-"

"Um, it's alright,"

She closes the door. Lady Devana comes in and sits on the corner of my bed. "Since you are awake, I think this is the perfect opportunity to ask this, Mary Jane, if I may," she adds.

"You may ask me anything, my Lady,"

"I want to ask you, what type or sort of education did the nuns have provided at the Foster Care?" She inquires.

"The foster care has its own academic institution, built beside our home residence. It offers almost all of the basic academic levels except college. I've finished primary and tertiary but cannot pass my university exam last year."

"Did you want to attend university?"

"I would love to," I said honestly.

She smiles. Her crimson eyes glow. "You don't need to worry too much. You will retake your university exam next week. I will also buy you some books tomorrow, that could help you review the coverage of the exam."

"Thank you, Lady Devana."

Her ruby-red eyes stare at my crucifix necklace. I notice that her attention is suddenly diverted.

"Where did you get that crucifix?"

"A nun gives it to me. I wear it to drive the nightmares away."

"Did you pray, still?"

"Yes, it makes me feel safer."

She leans in.

"Mary Jane," she said in her sweetest tone.

"If you love your momma, then please, stop praying."