The black velvet of night fell across the landscape, and somewhere in the distance a whippoorwill called mournfully for a mate in the woods across from our neighborhood. The cloudless sky revealed a dazzling show of brilliant stars, and not even barking dogs broke the beauty of the late hour with shrill yips. I remember it clearly. It was the night my life, and everyone else’s, changed forever.

I was thirteen when Miranda came to us. Mom and Dad had wanted more children, but after my brother Kyle was born, they had no luck getting pregnant. Finally, they decided to become foster parents. I was eager to have a sister, so when I got the news that Miranda would move in with us, I was thrilled. She was three and just old enough for me to coddle and play dress-up with. She was a dream come true for all of us. 

For the first time since I was a little girl, I held tea parties, built a dollhouse, and helped name stuffed animals. We played school by lining the bears and other dolls up in neat rows. I was the teacher, and Miranda was always the star pupil. I put her bouncy curls up with ribbons, used my allowance money to buy her dresses, and did everything I could to be the perfect big sister. I’d needed Miranda. We had all needed Miranda. 

Even Kyle was happy to have her with us. Sure, he grumbled for a while that she wasn’t a boy, but Miranda had an adventurous spirit, and soon he was playing bucking bronco with her and teaching her how to fish at the local lake. He gave up on having a brother, at least for a while, and happily assumed the role of protective big brother. At ten, he figured he was just the man for the job.

Mom and Dad held a lot of sway in our community. Yes, they held admirable jobs, but they had a natural charisma that attracted people to them as well. If we bought a certain kind of car, people we knew followed suit. When Mom decided to grow a garden and donate to the local food shelter, suddenly gardens sprang up everywhere in our town. When they committed to becoming foster parents, others decided that they, too, could provide homes to needy children. Kyle and I were constantly in awe of what our parents could accomplish.

Dad was frequently asked to run for mayor, which he gracefully declined. “I’m no politician, and I don’t want to start now. I’d rather keep my feet planted in the grassroots of helping our neighbors. I’m not one much for titles.”

Following our lead of adopting Miranda, the Roberts family took in Lily and Lamar, siblings. Mrs. Roberts told Mom, “Grace, I’ve thought about it, and now that our children have grown and moved away, Jack and I have plenty of room to take in children who need our help.”

“Meg, that brings tears to my eyes,” Mom said. “Thank you for helping fill a big need in our community.”

The Hagers fostered Joelle. The Kincaids took in Tyler and Trinity. The list of foster homes grew and grew until there were no longer children without homes. Starting this trend was far more fulfilling to my parents than the other ways our family brought about changes in our town. 

Not long after Miranda arrived, we got even more good news. Kyle, Miranda, and I were called into the living room one afternoon for a family meeting. At first, we shot each other worried glances. The last time we had a conference in the living room we discussed whether or not to be a foster family. The time before that, though, Dad’s firm was considering selling to a corporation that wanted to take it over, and we were told we might have to move to Cincinnati. Neither Kyle nor I were keen on upheaval. We didn’t want bad news this time, so we worried each step of the way to the family meeting.

We were relieved to find Mom and Dad smiling when we came downstairs from our rooms. 

“As you know, we only call these meetings when there is something big to talk over as a family.” Dad looked at each of us. Mom squeezed his arm. 

“Yeah, Dad. What’s up?” Kyle and I leaned forward on the couch while Miranda played with her doll. 

“Kids, Mom and I are expecting another baby!” 

“Really?” We leapt from our seats and rushed to hug our parents. 

“When?”

“We still have a long way to go. Not until the end of October or the first of November, but we wanted to let you know right away. We saw the doctor today, so it’s official.”

Miranda blinked her big blue eyes at us as we celebrated. We’d waited so long, and now we would have two little ones to love. 

“I hope this one’s a boy!” Kyle crossed his fingers and whooped with joy. 

I secretly hoped for another girl. 

“Well, we’re going to be happy with either. We just want a healthy baby.” Mom patted her stomach that, before now, I hadn’t noticed was growing. 

During the next few months, every time we went shopping we came home with something for the new baby. The upstairs bedroom at the end of the hallway was converted to a nursery, and new items were stored for safekeeping. Kyle and I were thrilled. 

Miranda was not so thrilled. We’d ask her, “Aren’t you excited about Mama’s baby?” 

She’d bat her blue eyes and say, “I thought I was the baby.”

No amount of explaining to her how much fun being a big sister would be made a difference. 

Mom just sighed. “Lydia, you weren’t thrilled about Kyle coming along either. Miranda will come around. We just need to give her extra attention. She’s in the foster care system for a reason. Life has been hard on her.”

After that, Kyle and I did our best to dote on Miranda. If she felt secure, she’d accept the baby easier. We played with her more, brought special treats home for her, and did all we could to make her feel loved. We even asked her for suggestions on what to get for the baby, thinking if she felt included she would accept her new role as big sister. 

She’d still bat her blue eyes and say, “I thought I was the baby.”

We resigned ourselves to having to deal with sibling rivalry when the time came for the baby to arrive. 

In the meantime, life continued. School ended and we went on our family vacation to see our grandparents who lived in the country. It was wonderful to be out of the noise and traffic of the city. We didn’t live in downtown, but our suburban life wasn’t the same as living on a farm like they did. 

Every day after we arrived, Grandpa, Kyle, and I took walks along the nature trails where he explained what the different plants and animals were that we met along our way. He knew just about all of them. 

“See this little guy? He’s a painted box turtle. He won’t bite you, so you can pick him up.”

As we oohed and aahed over his decorated shell, Kyle turned him upside down to look at his butt. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Kyle?” Grandpa’s eyes twinkled. 

“How do you know it’s a boy? I don’t see anything down there.”

Grandpa chuckled. “That’s not how you tell. It’s easy. Boys have red or orange eyes and girls have brown eyes. See?”

Sure enough, our new companion had bright orange eyes. 

Grandpa pointed out the birds we encountered. “That’s a wren. That one’s a chickadee. That one over there is an oriole.”

We heard a raucous song above us. “What’s that one?” I asked. 

“Oh, that’s a cowbird. I hate those things.”

Grandpa had never said he hated any animal, not even snakes. We looked up at a bird that didn’t seem harmful. It’s song wasn’t very pretty, but it hardly seemed like a menace. “Why don’t you like them? It seems okay.”

“Well, cowbirds are what are known as parasitic nesters. They wait for another bird to build a nest and then the cowbird lays an egg in it so another bird has to raise its baby. Usually it’s bigger than the host bird’s babies and eats most of the food when they’re growing up.”

“That doesn’t sound fair at all.” Kyle glared up at the chirping bird. 

“It’s worse than that. They will toss one of the host bird’s eggs out so their chick has more food later on.”

“Why don’t the other birds just throw the cowbird egg out?” I was quickly hating the annoying bird myself. 

“Those cowbirds are smart. They watch to see what the other birds do. If they throw the foreign egg out, the cowbirds will destroy the entire nest in revenge.”

“What a terrible creature.”

“Now you know why I hate it. But, kids, let’s go this way. There’s a nice little pond I want to show you. There’s usually some wild ducks and egrets that hang around there.”

We put the cowbird behind us and went off on our adventure. Every day, Grandpa had some sort of fun nature experience for us to go on. 

“It’s a shame you kids don’t live in the country. There’s a whole lot more to the world than city life,” he’d tell us. We knew he was right.

We had fun with Grandma, too. She was funny and young at heart, and she took us on trips around the area to see the sights. Our summer visit went by way too fast, and we all cried when we said goodbye. 

Back home we continued our plans for the new baby. Nine months might seem like a long time, especially when you’re a child, but before we knew it there were only a matter of weeks before the baby’s arrival. In the meantime, we learned Mom was having a girl. Her name was Adylin, or Addy for short. 

Instead of a joyous birth, however, we were confronted with tragedy. A month before she was due, Mom slipped on the stairs. We rushed her to the hospital, but there was nothing the doctors could do. The trauma was too great. We almost lost Mom, too, and the doctors said to not count on her ever having a baby again. We were devastated.   

In a tragic twist of fate, three other couples we knew also miscarried within weeks of the death of little Addy. Our whole town was grief stricken. 

Miranda was too young to really grasp what had happened. “Am I still the baby?” She asked. 

“You are,” I said as tears streamed down my face. 

She hugged me tight and said, “it’s okay, Lydia. I’m here, and I love you.”

We lived in perpetual grief for months. The nearly-complete nursery at the end of the hall reminded us of the loss we had sustained. 

Then, almost unbelievably, Mom and Dad told us that they were pregnant once again.

“We waited until we were past the first trimester. We didn’t want to get your hopes up too soon.”

Kyle and I swarmed Mom and Dad with hugs, and we embraced as silent tears fell down our cheeks. It was a miracle.  

By now I had begun the start of my sophomore year in high school. I was busy with band and cheer, and I became the typical teenager on the go. My best friend Emmie and I were inseparable, and I spent many nights at her house. It’s not that I didn’t love my family. I just took them for granted and bonded with my friends.

Late one night I returned home. The stars blazed and the night was thick. As I walked up the driveway, something seemed “off.” Too quiet. Too still. Not just at my house, but in the entire neighborhood. I pulled out my key and opened the door. 

Blood slickened the tile and a strange glow came from the upstairs. 

“Mom? Dad? Kyle? I’m home. What’s going on?”

Utter silence. 

My legs felt weighted as I forced myself to climb to the second story. I can’t forget it. For as long as I live, for however long that is, I won’t get those images out of my mind. 

Hovering over the bloody bodies of my family was Miranda. Only she wasn’t the sweet little girl that I knew. Her eyes glowed and she had an otherworldly strangeness to her voice. 

“Miranda! What happened here?”

“You foolish girl, Lydia Bennett.”

She’d never called me by my whole name before. 

“All you stupid humans had to do was not take our place in the nest with another baby. My people were content, for now, having you raise us.”

“Miranda, what are you talking about?” My voice shook and my heart pounded. The dripping knife in her hand made it clear she had killed my family.

“This is happening across the city. You people were so eager to help out the children who needed homes, you never stopped to ask where we came from. It’s from there!” She tossed open the curtains and pointed at the sky.

“No! None of this makes sense! How could you do this?”

“Your mother didn’t slip on the stairs. I pushed her. With you and Kyle already here, I couldn’t risk my resources being used for another baby. I thought I solved the problem, but your stupid parents insisted on having another child. I had no choice but to destroy the whole nest.”

Trembling, I ran down the stairs and out into the street. Flashing lights in the sky above me revealed a fleet of saucers flying above the town. I ran as quickly as I could to the woods, at once panicked but still trying to understand what happened to my world.

Just then, it all made sense. I heard the unmistakable song of a cowbird in the trees above me.