Deserted - Auctioned

Jayden would like the cafeteria, Gray hoped. It was an extension to the original house, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard.

Darius got comfortable on the couch facing the flat screen on the wall, and Jayden and Gray followed.

Adeline chose the smaller couch and reached forward to the tray she’d set on the table earlier. “What kind of juice do you like, Jayden?” There were a few juice boxes on the tray. In the meantime, she knew the grown-ups liked coffee, and she poured two mugs for Darius and Gray.

“I like all.” Jayden shrugged. “But not vegetable juice. Gray tried to give me juice with spinach in it when we were in Colorado, and Mom put booze in her tomato juice. That’s fucking gross.”

Adeline masked her reactions like a professional, as opposed to Gray, who couldn’t stop himself from flinching at the nightmares of Jayden’s past. Even Darius clenched his jaw.

“I agree,” Adeline replied. “Vegetables just don’t belong in juice.” She slid Jayden a grape juice instead. “My son Abel—Gray’s best friend—puts spinach in his juice too. Couple of weirdos, huh?”

Jayden let out a chuckle. “Yeah.”

There was a spark of satisfaction in Adeline’s gaze. “So! Gray has told me very sternly that you don’t want anyone to know you’re here for a while. Luckily, we’re great at keeping secrets. Sometimes, you need a really good hiding spot.”

Gray was gonna buy her the biggest bouquet of flowers this week. She was an angel.

“Gray says you don’t like the system,” Jayden said.

Adeline nodded slowly, amused. “He’s right. Well, I used to hate it. Now I’ve become pretty good at using their own silly rules against them.”

Jayden smirked and took a pull from the straw on his juice box.

“Currently, we have four children—including you, Jayden—who are here without parents,” she continued. “Two girls, two boys. You will share a room with Justin. He’s very sweet. He doesn’t speak much, and he’s a bit shy at first, but I think you two could be good for each other.” She shifted her gaze to Darius. “You mentioned your sister when we were in Florida—she has autism and selective mutism?”

Darius inclined his head. “It’s how her anxiety manifests itself.”

Adeline nodded. “Justin’s only four, and we’ve determined it’s best to hold off on any investigations for him. He appears to develop easier with us. He’s been here six months and has made great progress with William, our counselor.” She smiled at Jayden. “You’ll get to meet William too, but there’s no rush.”

“He’s a head doctor?” Jayden lifted his brows. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”

Gray was starting to wonder how much influence Darius had on the boy. Head doctor was such a Darius term.

“Of course there isn’t,” Adeline chuckled. “But it’s always good to have someone outside the family to talk to. Sometimes it’s easier.” She hesitated. “And you recently lost your brother, didn’t you?”

Jayden nodded stiffly.

Gray cleared his throat and sat forward slightly. “He hasn’t processed it outwardly.”

Adeline acknowledged it with a subtle dip of her chin before moving on. “As I said, there’s no rush. William doesn’t only speak to children who carry trauma. Sometimes, it’s to make sure a child is ready for a certain activity or to determine a level of education. The more we know about our residents, the better we can help.” She paused to check her notepad on the table. “We’ll save schooling for later, I think. Hobbies are much more fun.” She lifted her chin and addressed Jayden again. “Do you have any hobbies and interests, Jayden?”

For the next twenty or so minutes, Adeline showed them over and over that she was amazing at what she did. She wove rules and information together with anecdotes of fun activities and traditions they had at the facility. There was a movie night every week, and twice a week, the kids helped bake cinnamon rolls that the staff brought over to the men and women at the local retirement home. Daily exercise in the backyard or the common room downstairs, depending on the weather. More activities for children, and those who lived here without a primary caregiver always had an adult nearby.

When Adeline decided they’d talked enough for now, she showed Jayden what would be his room down the hall. It was small but looked cozy. There was a closet, a bunk bed, a simple desk with two chairs, and glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling.

“Justin prefers to sleep with the door open,” Adeline explained. “The girls next door know they have to ask before they enter, though. And same goes for everyone. We ask before we go into someone’s private room, no matter if the door is open or closed.”

Gray scanned the room and created a mental shopping list. He knew, from when he’d volunteered here, that it was okay to drop off gifts and make minor changes to the room, such as replacing the white bedsheets with ones that were more fun for children, putting up posters, or adding a shelf or two.