One of the DI's begin to understand Bret, and gently helped him place everything in his duffle bag. He was assured that, yes, they all belonged to him...and, no, he wouldn't have to give anything back.The haircut, physical, and shots were also things that Bret had never experienced. At the orphanage he had cut his own hair, with a pair of scissors. Although required by law Bret had never had a physical, seen a doctor, or had a shot. Only kids who got sick received those.Once back at the barracks. She parked the car, and for thefirst time in my life I went into the bastion of femininity. This isthe place that takes plain girls and turns them into pretty ones. Momled the way, acting as if she owned the place. Following behind, I wasassaulted by the smell of the place, but mom acted as if she noticednothing. Potted ferns, light jazz playing in the background, women inlight blue smocks walking around in rollers, dye sets and wet nailswere my first impressions. The stylists all wore white. ”“It's okay,” the man said, his voice soft. It sounded like the imam. “Take off your hood, Nova.”I pulled it off, blinking. It was still night. Flashing lights danced behind us. I turned to see cop cars before a building. Figures were surging in. Gunshots cracked inside. I gasped and then looked ahead to see the imam, his shoulders hunched.“I... I made a mistake. I didn't know they planned on hurting you. I just wanted you to leave. To never come back, but...” He swallowed and stared back at me. " Our trip to inspect the big island was getting pushed back again as we all went back up to the house.Out on the porch, Sue saw the new kids, so she went outside and blew the air horn so the other kids could include the three new ones in their search for treasure. Before Sue could even turn around, a pack of kids broke out of the trees, running for the porch. All of them, out of breath, asked, "What do you need, Mom?"All of the kids knew each other and were soon headed back to the woods. Sandy.