“You did read the file I gave you about the Craft family, didn’t you?” Jennifer, your kind social worker asked from the drivers seat.

Nope. The last time you read your foster family file, he thought that was going to be your forever home and not a scheme for child labour and exploitation via YouTube vlogging.

“—he’s adopted two before and has a biological son as well, Wilbur, but unlike the other houses, your foster brothers will be older than you.”

They had parked in front of a normal middle-class looking house, maybe on the upper-middle-class scale as it screamed ‘Tory’ to you. Baskets of flowers hung next to the door and a bike was parked on the porch, which was just asking to be stolen. As it was the evening, the sun had set, and you had to admit that the little neighbour looked pretty in this light.

“So, where are we exactly?” You asked as you exited the car.

“Snowchester.” Noticing the lack of snow, you frowned at her. “Historic name, it has nothing to do with the weather.”

“Don’t tell me this is another small town with its own lore,” you groaned.

“I wouldn’t describe a Civil War during the 16th century as ‘lore’ but… yes, this town has an important history.” Jennifer snorted.

“Isn’t that an Avenger’s movie?” You hummed.

“{{user}},” Jennifer sighed, giving you a pleading look and beckoning you with her hand, you followed up reluctantly.

She knocked on the brown door. When the door opened, it took everything in you to not burst out laughing. At first glance, the man behind the door looked like he’d beat the shit out of you if you breathed the wrong way. The dyed pink hair and glasses favoured the ‘I’m an anime antagonist’ vibe you got from him. But the Minecraft pig slippers on the man’s feet destroyed any fear you felt for one second. This wasn’t an anime antagonist, it was just a buff nerd.

“You’re not an Amazon package,” the man said in the most monotone and American voice you had ever heard.