Free Winter Door by Isobelle Carmody

schoolbag.
    It was a luxury to walk only a matter of steps and climb into a waiting car. It was also lovely to have Billy climb in and sit by her knees. He knew he had to sit on the floor when it was wet or snowy, but she felt less comfortable about it, knowing that inside his dog form he was again as he had been in Valley.
    Uncle Samuel made no reference to the events of the night on the drive to town. In fact, he said nothing except to utter two mildly blasphemous words about the treacherous road conditions and, as they pulled into the school street, to warn her that he might be a bit late in picking her up. She should wait in the library again until he came for her.
    Rage thanked him for driving her in. He gave her an odd look before closing the door and driving away. Rage watched until the car went out of sight because Billy had leapt into the back and was looking back at her. As she turned away, she caught sight of the bike shed. It looked exactly the same as it always did.
    “You’d think it never happened,” Logan Ryder said from behind her. Rage turned shyly to face him. Logan looked the same as usual as well, except that his green eyes were no longer cold, and though he was not smiling, neither was he sneering. “Feels like I dreamed what happened,” he muttered.
    “It wasn’t a dream,” Rage said.
    “You didn’t tell your uncle, did you?”
    Rage shook her head, noticing passing kids giving them curious, sideways looks. “He wouldn’t have believed me,” she said. She went through the gate and Logan followed.
    “Are you sure about that? Your uncle seems a decent sort.”
    “He is decent,” Rage said. “I just wish I were sure he’d stay,” she added.
    Logan’s brows lifted into his shaggy hairline. “Didn’t you say he was going to stay until your mum got out of hospital?”
    “The people in my family are famous for not sticking around when the going gets tough.”
    “Your uncle didn’t strike me like the type who would leave anyone in the lurch.”
    Rage shrugged. “I think he’s just waiting for a reason to leave again.”
    Logan looked disillusioned. “A couple of the families I lived with looked like they came right out of a Disney movie, but it was more like a horror movie when you got to know them. I guess you never know anyone from the outside.” There was a flat edge to his voice.
    “How come you lived with so many different families?” Rage asked, glad to be distracted from her problems.
    He shrugged. “My mother died having me, and my father didn’t want to be left holding the baby, but he didn’t want to give me away, either, so he made me a ward of the state. That means no one was allowed to adopt me. I could only be fostered or given holidays. Pretty soon I was old enough that no one would want to adopt me anymore, and that’s when he changed his mind. He’d got married by then and his wife didn’t want to know about me. The kinds of families who take on older kids are usually sloppy do-gooders, religious maniacs determined to save your soul, or people who want the extra cash the government pays them. Some of the families I was with had a whole lot of kids, all adopted or fostered.” He stopped and gave himself a shake and gave her a savage grimace. “I am what you might call a factory recall.”
    “What about the family you’re with now?” Rage asked, thinking about the neat brick house.
    He shrugged. “The Stileses are okay. Do-gooders hoping to score on a delinquent. They haven’t figured out that I’m a hopeless case yet, but they will.” He said this with sour triumph. Rage didn’t know what to say. Didn’t he want to find a home he liked? But it wasn’t the sort of question she could ask. Not yet.
    They were inside the front hall now. A voice came over the loudspeaker instructing all staff and students to go to the main assembly hall.
    “Maybe they’re going to dismiss us,” Rage said, wondering what she would do in that case. Then she shook her