I stood in my new bedroom the following day dressed in a fluffy bathrobe. I didn't know what to do after discovering the maids had left my old shirts and jeans at my adoptive parents' house. I had the debit card, but I had nothing to wear except the robe. And school started in an hour.
I pushed the button near my headboard. Maybe I could borrow jeans and a shirt from one of the maids. The youngest maid looked about my size.
But when an older maid arrived, she asked me to choose something from the closet.
She opened the closet door, and pulled out a dress. It was made from a soft blue, shimmering fabric with a famous designer label.
“Everything in this closet was chosen for you,” the maid told me. “It should all fit. Wear whatever you like. And let me know if you don't like any of them
