The Girl Nobody Chose
The orphanage was hidden.
Not hidden in the way people described places that were simply difficult to find.
Actually hidden.
It sat at the end of a long, winding road that disappeared into a forest so thick that, from certain angles, the trees seemed to swallow the entire building.
There were no neighbouring houses. No shops. No busy roads.
Just acres of land, towering trees, and the enormous grey building that Sylvie had called home for eleven years.
Most of the children hated the isolation.
Sylvie didn’t.
She liked knowing there were places nobody could find her.
She sat on the steps outside the dining hall, swinging her legs slowly as she watched the younger children run around the courtyard.
At eighteen, her feet reached the ground now.
She remembered when they hadn’t.
She remembered being seven and sitting on those same steps, watching cars pass through the gates.
Every time one came, the other children would run toward it.
Sometimes it was a social worker.
Sometimes it was a visitor.
Sometimes it was a family looking for a child.
Every time, Sylvie watched.
Every time, someone else got chosen.
She had eventually stopped running to the gates.
At least, she told herself she had.
“Sylvie!”
She looked up.
A caretaker stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
“What?”
“The dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.”
Sylvie glanced toward the dining hall.
The other girls were still sitting around the tables, talking and laughing.
“I haven’t eaten.”
The woman’s expression didn’t change.
“And?”
Sylvie stared at her for a moment.
Then she lowered her eyes.
“Nothing.”
“Good. Then get to work.”
Sylvie stood.
She didn’t argue anymore.
There was never any point.
She entered the kitchen and began gathering the plates.
A girl passing the doorway glanced at her and laughed.
“Of course they gave them to you.”
Another girl giggled.
“She’d probably do it even if they didn’t ask.”
Sylvie kept washing.
She had learned that responding only made things worse.
That was how things worked here.
If someone pushed her, she was expected to have deserved it.
If someone insulted her, she was too sensitive.
If someone stole from her, she was accused of lying.
And if she complained, she was told to be grateful.
So she learned to stay quiet.
She learned to swallow her anger.
She learned to disappear.
But there was one place where she didn’t have to.
After finishing the dishes, Sylvie slipped through the back door and walked toward the trees.
She knew every path.
Every crooked branch.
Every patch of wild grass.
She had discovered the little body of water years ago when she was running away from the other children.
Nobody else seemed to know it existed.
It was hers.
She sat beneath her favourite tree, removed her shoes, and dipped her feet into the cool water.
For a few minutes, the orphanage disappeared.
This was where Sylvie came to think about the future.
She would leave soon.
She had only a few months left.
And for the first time, that thought didn’t scare her.
She didn’t know exactly where she’d live.
She didn’t know how she’d pay for university.
She didn’t even know if she’d get the chance to go.
But she knew one thing.
She would build a life of her own.
A life where nobody could tell her she didn’t belong.
A life where she could walk into a room without wondering whether everyone wished she would leave.
Sylvie leaned her head against the tree.
For once, nobody was calling her name.
Nobody was asking her to clean.
Nobody was telling her what she had done wrong.
The silence felt almost like freedom.
She smiled faintly.
Soon.
Very soon.
She would finally leave.
And she had no idea that before she did, someone was about to walk into her life and change everything.
