Greenie Addams huddled under the railroad bridge in an ugly, unfamiliar city. The light blinked in the thick-falling snow. People in their cars were going places—to casinos, movie theaters, where they would forget their trials. For Greenie, the snow falling on her head whispered No turning back. And she was shivering in her thin shoes.

            From her earlier days, Greenie had one wish: JOY. Joy was her mother’s thick curly hair cascading down her shoulders, how the room filled with sunshine when she laughed. Joy was her father coming home from work, swinging her in his arms like a clock, saying, “How is Little Starshine today?” Joy was sofa-cushion battles with her older brothers whom she pretended to hate. Joy was a dolly tea party, a backyard sprinkler, rainbows dancing on the green lawn, the ice cream truck’s song, swim goggles, snow angels, her very first attempt at writing—GOOD TIMES.

            Then came the shadows, the whispers and worried looks, the piles of unpaid bills, the fighting and horrid shouting matches between her beloved parents. How could Greenie understand?

            That her mother refused to eat for weeks on end—wore baggy sweaters, jogged constantly, lied, and listened to lies. That she landed in and out of mental hospitals when the voices got too loud inside her, like the TV when you can’t find the remote to drown out the screeching. All that came crashing on Greenie’s dad when he lost his job and the family got reduced to rags. One day Greenie’s brother Sammy wrecked his bike, and when he came to school all bruised and banged up, the teacher looked at his woebegone appearance and decided to call DCFS. People in black clothing, like funeral home people, knocked on her door. Greenie went one last time to her beloved pink room, kissed her dolls goodbye, and started packing her suitcase. She got sent to a foster home in Chicago, her two brothers to Detroit.

            But three months later, Greenie decided she’d had enough and made a run for freedom—one black and starless night.

            She never dreamed freedom could be so cold and snowy. So very lonesome…