“Who’s this lad here?” asked a lady. A man said he didn’t know. He said he found him in the streets, arrested him for being under age out at night, and couldn’t get him to speak a single word.
“How old is he?”
“Don’t rightly know. Looks to be about 15, don’t you think?”
“And no one’s come for him?”
“No. We’ve held him for two weeks and there’s been no one. Only thing I know to do is leave him with you, here at the orphanage. Only thing he’ll tell me is his name.”
“And what’s that then?”
“Aden Hubbard.” The lady drew up some paper work. “You don’t think anyone will mind if I assign him an age, do you? It’ll make it easier for him, just being assigned one.”
“I don’t mind. I just want to see him taken care of.”“Most likely he’ll go unclaimed until he’s 16. Those that graduate out of the system are worse off. I’ll put down 14. That’ll give him a few years to get his feet.” Before morning, Aden Hubbard became a part of the system. Though he was much older than 14, he was grateful. Being in a strange country alone was hard enough without room and board.