After the Thompsons, something in Janya changed. She stopped looking forward to the visits from prospective parents. She no longer tried to present herself as a child who could be adopted. Instead, she withdrew further into herself, building thicker walls around her heart, determined to protect herself from the pain of rejection.
The other children noticed the change in her. They saw how she no longer lined up eagerly in the parlor when new families came to visit, how she avoided making eye contact, how she no longer even pretended to smile. Even Miss Grimshaw, who had long since given up on trying to make Janya more adoptable, seemed to understand that something had shifted irrevocably in the girl.
Janya's retreat into herself wasn't just emotional—it was physical as well. She began spending more time alone, finding quiet corners of the orphanage where she could be by herself, away from the other children, away from the prying eyes of the staff. She would sit for hours in the small library, hidden among the stacks of books, losing herself in the stories of far-off places and people who didn't know the pain of being unwanted.
Books became her refuge, her escape from a world that had shown her nothing but disappointment. In the pages of her favorite stories, she could be anyone she wanted to be—a brave adventurer, a clever detective, a girl who was loved and cherished. The characters in her books didn't judge her for being quiet, didn't reject her for not being outgoing enough. In those stories, she was safe.
The Final Straw
As the years passed, Janya became a fixture in the orphanage, one of the older children who had been there so long that the staff had stopped trying to find her a home. Most of the younger children came and went, adopted by families who were eager to start fresh with a child who hadn't yet been shaped by the hardships of orphanage life. But Janya remained, her presence almost ghostly, as if she were just another part of the building.
When Janya was twelve, a new couple visited the orphanage. They were different from the others who had come before. The Marshalls were a young, energetic pair who radiated warmth and enthusiasm. They had recently moved to the area and were looking to adopt an older child, one who could grow with them, become part of their lives.
For the first time in years, Janya felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. The Marshalls were looking for an older child, not a baby or a toddler. They wanted someone like her, someone who had a bit of experience, someone who could appreciate a second chance.
During their visit, the Marshalls were kind and attentive. They asked Janya about her interests, her favorite books, her dreams. They didn't seem put off by her quiet nature; in fact, they seemed intrigued by her introspective personality. Mrs. Marshall mentioned that she was an artist and often spent hours alone in her studio, which made Janya feel a kinship with her.
After the visit, Janya couldn't help but let her mind wander, imagining what life might be like with the Marshalls. She pictured herself in their cozy home, helping Mrs. Marshall with her art projects, reading in the sun-drenched living room, maybe even having a pet—a cat, perhaps, that would sit with her while she read.
But just as before, that fragile hope was dashed. A few days later, Miss Grimshaw called Janya into her office. The Marshalls, she explained, had decided to adopt a sibling pair instead. They felt that taking in two children would be a better fit for their family.
This rejection, so similar to the ones that had come before, was the final straw for Janya. She had let herself hope, let herself believe that things could change, but the pain of being passed over again was too much. She felt something inside her snap, a final break that left her numb and empty.
From that day forward, Janya no longer cared about being adopted. She stopped dreaming of a family, stopped imagining what life outside the orphanage might be like. Instead, she focused on surviving, on getting through each day without letting the pain consume her.