Stanley was the one constant in Bo's life.
He'd been with her for as long as she could remember.
Winter had told her that it was her mom that gave Stanley to her. Her real mom that is.
Not Katie and her husband Jim, Bo's current foster parents.
Not nice old Mrs Tate with her three cats, who had looked after her before them.
Not the sad ex-army doctor who had shrieked when Bo tried to cheer her up with a dancing Stanley.
And not the countless other people previous that had died or been to scared of Bo to let her stay.
But her REAL mom.
The mom she couldn't remember, but loved just as much as if she did.
Winter hadn't told her what had happened to her parents. He was waiting for Bo to ask, but she didn't want to.
Well it wasn't really that she didn't want to ask, more that Bo wasn't sure she wanted to know.
So instead she dreamed.
Bo imagined having a nice house in a little town somewhere, anywhere. She'd live with her mom - a blonde, or sometimes brown, haired woman with green (or was it blue?) eyes.
Bo could never pinpoint the details and had given up trying.
She'd live with her dad too. He would be strong, at least strong enough to lift her and carry her around when she was tired or wanting to play. His hair was the most changeable thing - sometimes long, even shoulder length, other times it was so short it was impossible to tell where his stubble started and hair began.
The one constant in her day dreaming were his eyes. Always a pale, almost grey, blue.
Bo told Stanley all about the family in her head, about the parent's she'd never known and how she imagined their life together.
And of course Stanley always listened, was the only one to listen.
Because Stanley was the one constant in Bo's life.