Tyla Orwell sat and watched the parade march past her family’s home. She heard the giggle of her niece a moment before she was tackled. Well, it wasn’t much of a tackle. Tora was only two feet tall.

“Hello, shortcake.” Tyla lifted Tora in her arms and hugged her while the parade filed past.

Tora applauded and wiggled her legs as the brightly coloured floats slowly progressed past.

The tree-trimming party was under way, and the drunken revels of the Orwells were reaching Tyla’s ears. She was on babysitting duty, so she kept Tora in her arms until the pink-cheeked cherub fell asleep.

She put Tora down in her room and opened her computer. It was time to get some work done, and since she was currently the goose that was laying the golden eggs, she needed to keep her family wealthy and on top of their social ladder.

It sucked that only one family member per generation got the knack for making money out of anything. They called it the Rumplestiltskin gene.

Her aunt Hadra had the knack before Tyla, and she had lived her life alone and surrounded by her family. Tyla was determined that that was not going to happen to her.

The holidays meant that she was surrounded at all times, but there was a way out. The moment that Tora was back with her mother, Tyla was going to make a call.

She fished the card out of her bra and looked at it. There was a name and a number, and Tyla was really hoping that it wasn’t a joke.

She put it back in the only thing that her family didn’t search when she wasn’t in her room. Being under lock and key was her life, and she was tired of it.

The moment that she decided to do it, it was like something clicked. She checked on Tora and closed the door to her room.

Drunk geese shed feathers, and she was going to be able to get all the familial samples that she needed from the main living room.

As she guessed, her family was mostly passed out, and there were feathers by the dozens. She picked up the samples she needed and left the room as quietly as she came. She saw a few pairs of open eyes, but she moved quickly, hiding the feathers behind her back. To sell her reason for being there, she put her sister into the recovery position and brought in a six-pack of water for her family’s waking moments.

It was only half of what they would need, but she was counting on them to wake in stages.

She took the feathers and added one of her own; the gold gleamed against the white and grey. She tucked the bundle of feathers under her thick blonde braid and checked on Tora. The little one was asleep with her chubby fist against her cheek. Tyla wanted a kid; she wanted a family that didn’t constantly ask her about the bottom line. She wanted to love someone who looked at her and didn’t see dollar signs. The Crossroads might just help her do that.