RELEASE DATE: 15 November 2020
Matron Rus, stern but kindly head of the orphanage, is vexed. A child is gone. Justice missed roll call—again—and this time, she can’t find hide or hair of him on the orphanage grounds.
She desperately wants him to give up his search for the family that abandoned him, to let himself belong here. But raising Justice takes more wisdom than she could ever have imagined.
A wistful story about the importance of family and belonging, for everyone who knows—or can imagine—the complications of raising children.
The Boy Named No
Two straight lines of unwanted waifs stood at military attention by their cots. Matron L. R. Rus’ heels clicked as she marched down the rows, inspecting hospital corners, checking under the beds for debris, ordering hands held out so she could verify they were properly scrubbed.
The last cot stood alone, blankets folded at the end of the bed where the orderly had placed them the night before. The cot’s tow-headed owner was missing.
Again.
Matron Rus scowled. “Justice Saber Rus, get out here this instant!” Not expecting much, she checked under the bed. Nothing. A twinge of clan pride kept her from screaming. He was a Rus; even if he was unwanted, at least he was intelligent.
She eyed his footlocker, then, with practiced ease, overrode his lock code. Shredded uniforms and a shredded gray bag.
Frustration boiling over, she turned to the boy across the aisle. “Where is Justice?”
“He left last night, ma’am.”
She scrolled through her mental list of names, trying to place the dark-haired child. Virtuous Shield Pantros. Age six, large for his age and clan. Probably not a full Pantros. “Why, Mister Shield, did you not inform anyone when Justice left?”
“We were told not to make any noise, ma’am.” His dark brown gaze slid upward, watching her.
“You didn’t consider the consequences of allowing him to wander away?”
“I did, ma’am. But I can’t break the rules, ma’am,” he said with infuriating calm.
Matron Rus smiled. “Rebellion by obedience, how very charming. Unit!” she bellowed. “Move out to the cafeteria. You will be fed when Mister Saber joins you.”
The children marched out.
With a sigh, Matron Rus collected the tattered gray duffel and dropped it in the carbon recycler. It was always the first thing he destroyed when he threw a tantrum.
She opened the hall closet, looking for a replacement.
“Matron Laura?” a voice interrupted.
“Yes?”
Terssa Camlin Fisher stepped around the corner. “Unit Five just arrived in the kitchen and the little Rondros Pantros girl told me they were waiting for Justice. Where is he?”
“A very good question, Miss Camlin. He’s run off again.”