PASS THE PARCEL - a story in 100 words

PASS THE PARCEL
When the social worker put Josie into my arms she was a silent, smelly little bundle – a two-year-old weighing less than our Christmas turkey. A life of being passed like a parcel between a drug-addict mother and a series of careless minders had almost killed her.
She slept in my bed that night and for months afterwards, gradually emerging from her shell, shrinking back when her feckless mother dropped in, but we fought off the woman’s attempts to reclaim her.
Now we’re about to hand her over to Martin – if he doesn’t treat her right he’ll have me to answer to.................................................................................................You don't have to be a birth mother to be fiercely protective, as I learned in my earlier life a a foster mother. Even some of my own children's friends became very dear to me.
Thanks to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers on her blog   https://rochellewisoff.com/  and to Jean L Hays for the photograph.