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Sierra lost her parents when she was eight. They had been at the mall doing last minute Christmas shopping before walking to a nearby restaurant for dinner with a friend. On the way to the restaurant, Sierra ran a little ahead and was doing as kids do. Still, she was in sight and close enough for them to keep an eye on her, so they let her have her fun. As her parents were going to cross the street, a car skidded on the ice and lost control. It only took a second, one single second, and everything Sierra ever knew was gone. It was unclear how long she stood on the other side of the road, staring in shock. She barely understood what had happened, but she was also too scared to move. It was unclear how long she’d stood there watching red seep into the white snow. Eventually someone found the scene, Sierra doesn’t remember who. All she remembers is one minute standing in the snow on the side of the street and the next she was wrapped in a blanket, sitting in the passenger seat of an parked car. She could hear voices outside, but their words were lost to her.
Her parents’ friend watched over her for the time being. It was eventually ruled a double manslaughter and planning for the funerals started.
With the funerals came talk of what would happen to the child left behind.
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Sierra’s mother's family lived far away, but her funeral was first. Sierra’s mother, Vivian, had been the oldest of her siblings by a large margin. With Vivian’s father sick and the second oldest sibling only being fresh out of highschool, taking her in wasn’t something they could even consider. The funeral itself was already going to be a large financial burden on them. Said funeral had been a lowkey affair that Sierra doesn’t remember well, but she remembers they were kind to her.
Sierra’s dad’s family lived in Seaford, only a few hours drive from Sierra’s childhood home. Her dad, Milo, was the youngest of four to a single mother.He had left Seaford on bad terms with his family since none of them thought he was ready for a kid and felt he was throwing away his future for a girl he barely knew. They never reconciled and the funeral was the first time most had seen their brother in years and the first time they had ever seen Sierra. They knew Vivian’s family couldn’t take her in so if one of them didn’t, she’d go into the system. Ultimately after discussion, none of the siblings wanted to take her in. Milo’s death had hit all of them very hard and none of them were in a position to give her what she’d need. They were strangers to the poor traumatized child, wouldn’t it be better to let professionals handle it?
Their mother, Etta, hated the very concept. Etta couldn’t stand it. To cast away Sierra would be to give up the last piece of Milo she had. It would be to fail him as a mother even more than she did so many years ago, when she pushed him away. So she took Sierra in, against the opinions of her children. She had raised four kids at once all on her own, how hard could one more be? Etta never pushed Sierra into anything, nothing important. If she didn’t want to go to regular school, Etta wouldn’t force her. There were other options after all. If she didn’t like the silence, Etta would leave music on when Sierra had to be home alone. If she didn’t like going to therapy, she didn’t have to. If leaving the house was too much, why overwhelm the poor girl. Slowly, Sierra came around to living with Etta. She’d come a bit out of her shell and became comfortable in her home. But the fear persisted. The farthest she could go was the backyard and on her worst days, even that felt unsafe. The world was aimlessly cruel, death was easy, accidents could be fatal, and Sierra never stopped being afraid.