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Rated: E · Chapter · None · #2219093
Adaline Darlington never had the perfect beginning nor would she have the perfect end.
Chapter 2 | Buttons

The room vibrated with clamor. An old train station bustling with sea of colored dresses, ties, and twinkling cellphones. Edison bulbs dimly illuminated the vaulted carved ceilings. One side of the hall was filled with adults feverishly peering through each other at the other side of the grand hall where nervous children with numbers were shuffling their feet and looking away. Some adults were debating from the image on their phone to the real thing before them. Others stood looking irritated and worried about the paperwork before them.

An elevated stage stood in between the two groups; a tall man with a fiery curly mustache stood behind a wood podium with a speaker and a tablet. His eyes reflecting the glow of the tablet as he was scrolling through articles and files. Directly behind the tall man; a long table sat with two women that were busy flipping through clipboards of names and pictures of the children. One woman, slender, with sharp eyes and pointed nose. Her graying black hair in a tight bun. She wore a black dress top and grey dress pants paired with red heels that matched the lipstick on her thin stern lips. She leaned over to the younger woman next to her. She was filled out and wore an white floral dress that umbrella-ed her swollen belly. The younger woman stopped and looked up. She shared the fiery mane of the man and bore a sweet smile towards the man.

"Daryl, Honey, are we ready to start?" Her equally sweet voice rang out to the tall man with the tablet. The man turned to her and mirrored the affectionate smile, "But of course." He responded as he cleared his voice. It is was indeed time to begin. The clamor was getting loud and the air became hesitant.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Ladies and Gentlemen, I welcome you all to the grand adoption event sponsored by The Blooming Orchard House. The Blooming Orchard House is owned by the lovely Mrs. Mildred Pritchard and the Pritchard family who has been saving the lives of misfortune children since 1912."

Voices died down and soon an eruption of applause filled the void.

* * * * *
She sat there as the thin woman stood in front of her with hands on her hips. Her pointed nose looking down at the little girl.
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