Chapter thirteen

I knocked on the old, all too familiar oak wood door, memories of the last moments I had there flooding my mind. They were still fresh and bruised just like a wound from a bicycle fall.My foster mother opened the door. Shocked to see me, she called my foster father then moved to hug me.

"I can't believe you are here. We left off on the wrong foot. I never thought you'd come back." Shamali said pulling away just as Ian appeared beside her.

"Becca! It's so great to see you." He said, hugging me too then ushered me inside.

I walked in the newly renovated house. What used to be a polished wooden floor was replaced by a stone vinyl cushion. The wood on the stairs was evenly polished and shiny, a brown carpet running all through only allowed to expose the sides.

Just by the door, there was a long, raised stool cabinet that gracefully held three picture frames.  Two of them were of Shamali and Ian in Venice while the other one, between the two was of me whe