Greyhound bus terminals are depressing buildings, especially at six o'clock in the morning when they're nearly empty. No matter where the terminal is located, whether in Sudbury or Vancouver, they're always dismal places with limited lighting. For twelve year old Will, the Calgary bus terminal was no different than the foster home he lived in for the past year. Same dismal atmosphere.

Constable Boyd Duncan sat next to Will on the hard bench, peering at the slight boy out of the corner of his eye. The child was small for his age, yet clutched to his canvas backpack with a surprising amount of strength. He might have been underdeveloped but he was strong. He was a survivor, Boyd concluded.

“You're very lucky, you know,” Boyd mentioned absently. The boy remained silent, staring at the floor. “You really are,” Boyd persisted. “Dr. Hayes and his wife are good people. You'll have a proper home. It's good luck that they chose to adopt you.”

Luck, Will thought bitterly, shoving his messy, ash blond hair out of his eyes. He was an orphan and doubted luck had anything to do with it - unless bad luck counted.

“Now boarding,” a monotonous voice announced over the loudspeaker, “for Kamloops.”

Boyd took a deep breath and rose to his feet. He looked down at Will and felt immensely sorry for the boy.

“Well,” Boyd hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his uniform, “this is where you and I part company.”

Will slowly looked up with big, china blue eyes, clutching his backpack even closer to his narrow chest.

“Don't worry, son. I'll walk you to the bus,” he soothed. Will's eyes widened even more.

Boyd hiked his pants and crouched down so he and Will were eye level. “You're going to have a better life, I promise,” he reassured.

“I wanna go home,” Will said in a barely audible whisper.

Boyd frowned. “You are going home.”

Will finally understood what was happening to his life. His parents were gone. He didn't have a home anymore. He lowered his head, hiding the tears that began to fall. He didn't cry again for a long time. After the tears were shed, ice grew over his heart. He became numb, even when the constable gently took him by the arm and led him to the Greyhound bus, Will didn't feel anything.

After all, home is where the heart is and his heart was dead. A ten-hour bus ride could be a long trip for a kid. For Will, it passed by in a blur. He was placed in the first seat where the portly bus driver could keep an eye on him. No one sat next to him and the bus had a total of six passengers. It wasn't a popular route. Will spent his time staring out the window, wishing feverishly to have the speed of a vehicle. To run...far away...and keep running from everything.

The bus driver announced to his passengers they were stopping in Revelstoke, BC for lunch. After the passengers exited, the bus driver looked questioningly at Will. He shook his head in response to the unasked questions and pulled out a peanut butter and jam sandwich from his backpack. The bus driver shrugged and joined his passengers in the little diner.

Will thought about his choices while he ate, or rather what few choices he had left. Everything felt surreal to him, like a bad dream he would never wake up from. He decided if nothing was real, he didn't need to be real either. He'd meet this new family of his, play the part of their son and go along with the act.

He crumpled the plastic baggy that once held a sandwich and threw it in the paper bag that hung under the window. He pulled out a container of apple juice from his backpack and violently stabbed the straw into the top. Oh yes, he was angry, about the foul tasting warm apple juice, the stench of the bus...his whole life.

How dare his mother leave him behind to deal with the consequences of her departure. His anger seethed as he sucked loudly on the straw. He trusted his mother with his life and she let him down. He trusted his father and he too, let him down. He even trusted the social worker who said the foster home he had stayed in was a good place. It wasn't. It was crowded and messy. He had no privacy whatsoever. Like the bus terminal, it was just another form of hell to him.

His life was one big lie.

He threw away the empty juice carton as the passengers came back. The bus driver walked heavily up the stairs and glanced at Will.

“It'll be another five hours 'til we get to Kamloops,” he said. “If you gotta use the bathroom, it's in the back.” He pointed in that direction.

Will reluctantly stood up. He did have to go but didn't want to leave the confines of his seat. It felt safe and comfortable. He had even begun daydreaming about living in a bus seat. It wouldn't be that hard. He'd set up a curtain to separate his seat from the rest of the bus. He'd keep the space neat and tidy. Will had a lot of foolish dreams. When he returned to his seat, the bus driver gave him a friendly nod and shifted the bus into gear. Will took off his down jacket and bunched it up into a makeshift pillow. He lay down, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't really sleep. In fact, he hadn't had a good night's sleep in three years. But he could fake sleep. He was good at pretending.

At four thirty in the afternoon, thirty minutes behind schedule, the bus lethargically pulled into the Kamloops bus terminal. Will waited until all the passengers left before getting himself together.

“Hey, kid,” the bus driver called as Will started down the stairs. He turned halfway to the man. “I understand you've had it rough, but things do get better.”

Will scowled to himself and turned away. Just another big lie. Inside the terminal, he noticed a woman in a starchy, light colored, dress suit, holding up a big sign which read, Will Sutherland. All colour drained from his face and he trembled. He knew he was meeting a social worker here but he wasn't expecting a female. The social worker in Calgary had been male.

But a female...no, he couldn't handle this. As far as he was concerned, no female could be trusted. No matter how strong his defenses were females always found a way to get under his skin and shatter his heart into irreparable pieces.

Even a heart of ice could be broken.

She immediately spotted him in the small crowd, like a shark in shallow waters. She grinned widely and waved him over. He held his backpack up to his chin and dragged his feet as he marched toward her.

“Hi, there,” she said cheerfully, bending down and placing her hands on her knees. “I'm Ms. Cheetham. You're Willy, right?”

He stopped breathing and glared at her.

She lost her sunny smile and frowned. “Are you not Will Sutherland?”

He exhaled, gradually relaxing and nodded once.

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed. Her smile returned and spread from ear to ear. “We'll go to Logan Lake now. It's only about a twenty-five minute drive. We'll be there before you know it!”

She waited for a response, a reaction, anything. There was nothing. He didn't even blink. She frowned in confusion. “Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat first?”

He shook his head slightly. Ms. Cheetham sighed, unused to dealing with such a quiet child.

“Okay,” she said, standing up. “My car is parked right outside.” She smiled and held out her hand. He didn't take it. She sighed again then ushered him to the front doors.

Will spent the car ride daydreaming and staring out the window yet again. He barely listened as she prattled on about his new home. Which wasn't in Lake Logan per se, as she explained, it was located within the District of Logan Lake. But it's a very nice house and she was positive he was going to love it. Will didn't say anything. The only thing he was positive about was it had to be another lie.

The scenery was pleasant enough although he didn't take the time to enjoy the passing forests of pine trees or the warm autumn sun. As the forest became more dense, he began to see he was going to live in the middle of nowhere. His mood grew darker by the minute.

Will was used to the bigger city of Calgary, with high rises and bus shuttles which he rode by himself since the age of six. He certainly wasn't accustomed to living in the middle of a forest with bears, insects and who knew what other wildlife that were dying to have a piece of him.

After forty minutes of a torturous car ride (the social worker drove at an obscenely slow speed), they finally pulled into a driveway leading to a long bungalow. From the outside, it looked like it had at least five rooms, maybe more. Another new experience for him. All his life he lived in a two-bedroom apartment. This place looked like it had space – something he had never experienced in his own home.

Ms. Cheetham parked the car then turned to an awed Will, gawking at the house.

“I know this isn't easy for you,” she began quietly, “but your new parents are really good people. Try to give them a chance. If this doesn't work out, we'll have to send you back to a foster home.”

Was it a threat? He wasn't sure. He supposed if he acted like a good little boy then nothing bad would happen. Then again, that's what he tried to do his entire life and still...bad things happened. It was very quiet in the car and he realized she was waiting for a response. He begrudgingly faced her and nodded, indicating his full cooperation. After all, he had no other choices left.

She smiled happily and took his backpack for him before he could protest. He sighed and got out of the car. That was his life now – things given then taken away. He walked a foot behind the social worker as they approached the cedar house. She rang the doorbell and Will saw her grip on his backpack loosen. He snatched it away. Startled, she looked down at him with widened eyes. Then her face turned apologetic and she smiled.

A woman answered the door and all Will saw was yet another female. She cooed at the sight before her. Her golden brown hair was pinned at the sides and flowed down to her waist. Will inwardly groaned. Would this hell never end? This female appeared a bit older than the social worker yet wore a similar dress suit. All females were the same.

“Good evening, Mrs. Hayes,” Ms. Cheetham greeted brightly.

“Helen, please,” the other female said with an English accent, smiling warmly. “And you must be Will. We're so pleased you could be here.”

Will nearly snorted and looked away. As if he chose to live in the backwoods with strangers.

“He's kind of quiet,” Ms. Cheetham explained sheepishly.

“It's quite alright, dear. He's been through a lot, I understand. Well, do come in.”

Helen ushered the pair inside and led them to the vast living room. Will scanned the area with edgy eyes. There was a man sitting in an armchair. He had yellow hair and wore a casual, grey suit, no tie. There were two girls seated on the plush sectional, they looked close to his own age. His adoptive sisters, he would soon learn. The three of them smiled in a way that Will knew was meant to be friendly, but it only looked menacing to him.

He sat down stiffly on the edge of the couch, far from anyone else and refused to meet anyone's gaze. Instead, he concentrated on the grand piano he noticed was leaning against a wall on the other side of the room. He liked playing the piano and there wasn't one in the foster home he had lived in. When he did have access to a piano, so long ago, it was taken away from him. And why? Because of females.

“Well, I wish you luck,” said Ms. Cheetham as she stood up. “As you know, we'll be coming back in a month to assess the situation.”

Will frowned at her, confused. Had he lost time again? What had taken place? What did he miss?

“Of course,” Helen said as she rose and extended her hand. “Thanks very much for bringing him here.” They shook hands.

“Best of luck,” Ms. Cheetham said to Will.

He dropped his eyes to the floor and sank further down on the couch. He felt horribly conflicted. Grateful that the female social worker was finally leaving him alone yet terrified of being left alone in a house with three females.

Ms. Cheetham patted him on the head and said, “Take care.”

Was it a warning? Was she hinting at things yet to come? Will was so lost in his horrifying thoughts that he didn't notice the female social worker had left and the other woman was talking to him.

“Will, your room is in the west wing. It should be nice and quiet there for you. We understand that you don't care for loud noises.” He looked up and accidentally met the woman's gaze. He froze, staring at her with big eyes. She had to be a deception, he thought, smiling so sincerely at him. Mothers are never that kind. Then her smile faded and she turned to her husband with a frown.

“He doesn't look well, Johan,” she said in a hushed tone.

“I know, Helen. I'll have a colleague examine him later,” replied Dr. Hayes in a strange accent Will couldn't identify. At first, he thought maybe it was Dutch. Later, he learned Johan Hayes was originally from South Africa.

“Hey, Will,” said a high-pitched voice. He unconsciously turned to one of the girls, the smaller one. She had round, green eyes and chin length, dark hair. She was looking at him with a massive grin. He was instantly wary.

“What do you like to do for fun?” the girl asked.

He didn't answer.

“Do you like sports maybe...?” she tried again.

No answer.

“Is he a mute or something,” the other girl snorted loudly.

“Theresa!” the woman admonished.

“I'm just saying,” dismissively said the girl named Theresa as she inspected her polished nails.

Will acknowledged the girl was quite pretty but that only made him even more cautious. The beautiful ones are always the most deadly.

“Maybe he would like to play with your video games, Nicky,” Helen suggested.

“Okay!” the smaller girl said enthusiastically. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, she jumped up from the couch and ran up to Will. She grabbed his arm and he grimaced from the touch. They all saw. The girl let go of his arm and slowly backed away. There was a hushed silence, the kind you would hear at a funeral or a morgue.

Instinct kicked in then. He ran. It was what he always did, it was what he did best. He ran out of the house and didn't stop, even when he heard them call after him. He kept running until he found himself in a small clearing in the middle of the forest. He collapsed, exhausted.

He laid down on the fallen leaves and wood chips then curled up into a ball. He knew what this new family thought of him as if he could read their minds. They thought he was damaged. They had no idea.

If Will Sutherland had come to the District of Logan Lake six years before that day, he would have met his future love. As it was, he had to wait another five years before he would finally learn life wasn't just a big lie.