Espoir

LOUIS
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the monsters gone, he's on
the run. and your daddy's here
- john lennon
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A tall man in a pristine suit that doesn't hide his muscles at all approaches us, gold rings on his tattooed fingers. His messy brown hair is almost identical to mine. So this is our dad?

I glare at him, I won't let a man trick me again like Mikey did. If I let him in at first site like I did to my step-father Aimée could get hurt...again.

"Kids," Our stupid social worker says, smiling. "This is your father, Adrien."

Aimée fidgets with her bony fingers, glancing over at me. He smiles warmly, I don't move, staring at him. Aimée scoots back in her seat and brings her knees up to her chest.

I scowl as he walks closer, "Louis." Nodding to my sister I say: "Aimée."

"Are you two ready to go?" Sypamthy clouds his vision when he asses our injuries. I nod standing up.

Mrs. Atwood pulls out her phone. "Your bags should be in the lobby, you two have my number and I'll stop by in two weeks to check on ya'."

We follow behind him, keeping a few feet in between for safety. Sitting by the glass doors are two half-filled trash bags that I'm assuming hold everything Aimée and I own.

Adrien goes to grab them but I shove past him, despite me being a total dick to the father I only met a few minutes ago he smiles sadly at me, not bothering to scold me like Mikey would.

Once we step outside I wait for the strike across the face or the fist to the gut. But it doesn't come, instead, he opens the car door to a very expensive-looking black car.

I glance at him wearily, why isn't he hitting me? I was rude to him, yet he was standing by the open car door with a somewhat soft expression on his scary face.

I throw Aimée's and my trash bags over my shoulder, standing in front of her like a barrier between me and our father. I'm never letting another man hurt my sister, and this time I'll die making sure.

He sighs, "I would never hurt your sister Louis. I would never hurt either of you."

"I have no reason to trust you," I snap, my top lip curling up. "People lie all the time."

Adrien nods sadly, before motioning toward the car. Giving up I urge Aimée in first, then I slide into the leather seat next to her.

He starts the car and the TV screens in front of our seats light up with a fancy logo. Rich people make me sick, this car probably works as well as a used one yet they spend thousands and thousands of dollars just so it looks good.

Just imagine how many meals I could buy with that kind of money.

"Woah," Aimée whispers, smiling over at me. "Nous n'avons même pas de télévision à la maison et il en a une dans sa voiture!"
(We don't even have a television at home and he has one in his car!)

She leans her head on the car window, the light reflecting on her blonde hair that perfectly framed her face. I didn't know much about hair, but I knew two things. My sister has a lot of it and it was everywhere.

On my clothes, in the shower, and even sometimes in her food when she forgot to tie her hair up when eating—something I've always had to remind her to do.

"You two speak French?" Adrien asks from the front seat, pulling out of the parking lot. I wasn't going to make conversation with him, or be all buddy buddy.