Sarah ate her dinner quietly, only talking when asked a direct question.  Her substitute â€œfatherâ€ seemed content to eat in silence, and so his wife filled the silence, babbling on and on about the new school she was going to and some of the things that would be expected of her and on and on and on.   Sarah was quite sure that dinner, which was spaghetti and meatballs, would have been good on any other day, but right now it felt like she was eating cardboard, simply going through the motions of the meal. Her new â€œparentsâ€ seemed oblivious.<br/><br/>After dinner, Lisa, her new mother, shooed her away to go and get settled into her new room.  â€œIâ€™ll take care of the dishes, sweetie.  You go see your room!â€  So Sarah trotted upstairs, as her new father, John, retreated into the den.  She heard the news click on and half smiled.<span style="font-style: italic">Just like home,</span>she thought.<br/><br/>Sarah walked to the end of the hall and opened the door to her room.  She smiled slightly once again, happy to see that they had not decorated her room leaning to one style or another.  It was very conservative, the furniture white, the sheets on her bed a mix of black and white.  There was a laptop sitting on her desk, next to an iPod and a rather nice looking clock that she could charge her iPod on.  She shut the door, locking it behind her, and was delighted to find she had her own bathroom.<br/><br/>Sarah moved to the window, staring out at the trees, resting her head against the glass.  It was a nice change to her life, but nothing could make her forget those days.  She shuddered, forcing the memory away.