Margot leaned closer to examine the stake. Her smile grew.
The child should be called Gretel, with such clues.
Then again, Margot was no evil stepmom. Or at least, not evil … The two of them couldn’t help not being biologically related.
Not any more than the girl could help being wild.
The social worker believed the latter a hindrance. Understandable, perhaps, given how many placements the child had lost. The system found it inconvenient to have a lass with more wilderness than tameness, who needed space and took it. Knowing Grenadine’s history, how could they not see why she’d tolerate no leash?
“This child will run away,” the social worker had warned when Margot said she’ll have her. “You’re so rural, you’d have no help keeping her contained.”
Margot had no plan to do so.
The child was free. The sticker meant that she’d be home by dinner.
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge