Olivia almost launched off the bus when it stopped, pushing others out of the way. She stumbled out onto the grass and landed face first into the ground. The grass started to twist and twine around her arms and fingers, almost comforting her. 

She inhaled the scent of the ground and plants. "Home sweet home." She whispered to herself. 

I looked up at the two counselors. "We have a garden, right? We need a garden." If Olivia didn't get a garden she might grow weeds everywhere. Including in their beds.