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I came into this world talking—and I never stopped. By seventeen, I'd been through eleven foster families. They all sent me back. My mom remarried into the Calder family and finally brought me home. My new stepsister Sloane started crying, said I was bullying her. The family sent me to Westbridge Academy. On my first day, I made friends with everyone—including Sloane's best friend. They imposed a seventy-two-hour communication blackout. No one could speak to me. My mom blocked me. Brennan ignored my calls. On the mountain field trip, Sloane switched my trail tag. I fell down a slope and got my leg stuck between rocks. I called everyone—forty times. Not one person answered. They knew I was missing. They chose to look the other way. Now the water's rising, and nobody's coming. I don't know if I'm going to make it. But I do know one thing—I'm not going to stop calling for help. Even if no one's listening. I came into this world with one problem: I couldn't shut up. Most newborns just cried. I was already babbling at the woman in the next bed, keeping her awake half the night. At five, I wandered off. The cops tracked me down in the middle of the local park, where I'd tried to set up a blind date for two seniors on a bench. At thirteen, my eleventh foster family sent me back to the group home. On the drive back, I talked the driver's ear off for the entire ride. He missed seven turns. By the time he pulled up to the group home, his eyes were red, and he was practically begging. "Kid, I like you. I do." "But I haven't been able to finish a single sentence since we left." When I was seventeen, M0m married into the Calder family and finally remembered she had a daughter. They threw me a welcome dinner that night. Dinner hadn't even started when my new stepsister, Sloane Calder, came downstairs in tears. "Tessa told me she's the only daughter this family needs. She said I should leave." "Maybe I should just skip di
