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Catching Hope

By Kathy Cassel

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Chapter One
I woke abruptly to the sound of a horn and looked around. Levi, my twin, was also waking. His red hair, a shade darker than mine, was tousled and his sapphire blue eyes were sleepy. It had been a long drive from the airport to our resort on the Haitian coastline, and although I’d wanted to stay awake and take in the scenery, I’d drifted off.
Now we were stopped outside an ornate iron gate. A high fence went both directions surrounding the property. Juvens, our driver, honked again, and a man in uniform pushed a button triggering a motor to open the gate, allowing Juvens to pull through it.
I turned to my twin. “Can you believe it? Us in a foreign country?”
He nodded, but was silent. Handling new situations and the stress of unfamiliar places is hard for my twin. Dr. M says it’s a quirk of his autism, but some of the families we lived with before the Michaels weren’t so understanding.
Change is difficult for Levi, even good change like being adopted by Dr. and Mrs. Michaels months earlier. So even though this trip was amazing, it would probably prove challenging for my twin.
I glanced sideways at Chad, my new brother. He’d also been adopted by the Michaels, but it had been when he was only six. His skin was caramel colored and his eyes were hazel with a strong tint of green. At sixteen, he was a year older than Levi and me, almost six-foot-tall and solidly muscled from all the sports he played.
Jen, our cousin by adoption was in the second bench seat next to Mrs. M while Chad, Levi and I shared the third row of the large resort van. She wasn’t adopted, and she let me know that the day we met. Today Jen’s long blond hair was pulled up in a fancy bun, and I made a mental note to ask Mrs. M to help me do something with my wild tangle of red hair once we were settled in.
Jen scowled. “I don’t know why I had to come on this trip. I would have been fine staying home alone while my parents went on their trip to Europe—their vacation which didn’t include their sixteen-year-old daughter.”
Dr. M turned from the front passenger seat. “You’ll have to take that up with your parents. They evidently wanted to spend some time alone.” He smiled. Jen didn’t return his smile. She stuck her earphones back into her ears, seemingly not as curious about our new accommodations as I was.
Juvens drove slowly through the resort. Small, white houses with yellow trim and blue shutters were set among palm trees. In the middle of the resort, four small swimming pools were situated around a central concrete island filled with dirt. Lush palm trees were planted in the ornamental island.
“This is where we’re staying? In one of those little houses?” I could hear the wonder in my voice, and Jen didn’t miss it even with headphones in.
“Bungalows,” she said. “Not little houses.”
“Little houses. Bungalows. Same thing,” Chad said. “Who cares anyway? Look at the sea.”
I followed Chad’s gaze. Waves were rolling in and crashing onto a white sand beach that stretched as far as I could see. Chad’s eyes devoured the water. “I can’t wait to try out those waves!”
Juvens pulled in front of a bungalow, climbed out, and walked to the back of the van. He opened the back doors where our luggage was stored. As I went to get my luggage, a movement just outside the fence drew my gaze. A short, thin man with skin like dark chocolate, a white scar etched above his right eye, was watching us. He focused on Dr. M, and his eyes narrowed, a look of pure hatred filling his face. His eyes met mine, and the look of fury on his face made my heart race. I quickly turned away. Who was the man? And more importantly, why was he looking at us as though he hated us?

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