The familiar scent of Mrs. Blanchard's perfume enveloped me as she escorted me out of Nordholt Academy. I haven’ seen her in a while and the drive was a nice moment for catching up. The looming prospect of reuniting with my adoptive parents stirred a concoction of emotions within me — anticipation, anxiety, and a touch of resentment, of course. Dr. Casiraghi's efforts had secured their release from jail, but what would this reunion hold for all of us?
As the car pulled up to the hotel where my adoptive parents stayed, I felt a pang of nostalgia for the life I left behind — the life of a regular high school student with ordinary concerns and my simple, humble family. Dr. Casiraghi had arranged everything, from their temporary lodging to our dinner arrangements that night. His kindness in a
