Mark Osgood, like the rest of his patchwork family, welcomed Maleah into his home. Maybe this one, he thought, will be quiet like me.

Lisa Ayotte-Osgood, his wife, was loud and extroverted, and so were her two children, Jason and Carly Ayotte. When they had one together, Audrey Osgood, she seemed to inherit a lot more of the loud genes than the quiet ones. He couldn’t win.

But then Lisa talked about this little one at Highland Elementary in Pierce, where she worked as the office assistant. Lisa was the first face Maleah saw every day, and for some reason, she imprinted on Lisa the same way a baby bird loves its mother after hatching.

Maleah had been through a lot for a 7-year-old. Too much. She was taken from parents after many offenses – drugs, Lisa believes – and when she was 4, she had a heart transplant. Maleah was supposed to go to another family, but at the last minute, her new family decided to adopt her younger sibling and leave her to another foster home.

Maleah’s story broke Lisa’s heart, and maybe Maleah sensed that compassion and latched on to it, since by that point it seemed to be in short supply. Lisa talked about her all the time. Mark got the message.

They knew nothing about adoption, but they spent a year going through the process, even when it was a pain in the butt, and on National Adoption Day, Maleah became a part of their family.

“I was super psyched,” Carly said about that day.

Well, yes, Carly was in second grade, and she already knew her from school, and suddenly here was another girl close to her age. Carly, a girly girl, could paint Maleah’s nails and watch princess movies with her and wear cute clothes.

Only Maleah was quiet. Mark liked that. Finally.

Well, he liked it at first, until they realized Maleah was quiet because she was hesitant. It was pretty obvious she was afraid. If she did anything wrong, she thought, they would give her back.

Two years later, during one of the family’s camping trips, they heard Maleah fighting with Carly, or maybe it was Audrey, over a toy. Mine, she said, and even though the fighting was annoying, it also was wonderful because it meant she knew they weren’t going to give her away. It meant she knew she was home.

Maleah was split down the middle in age of Carly and Audrey – about three years older than Audrey and a couple years younger than Carly – and that was perfect. Carly and Audrey were close, but they were six years apart, and sometimes it was nice to have another sister who was closer in age. Carly loved to talk to her about boyfriends, and Audrey loved to sneak out with her, even if the two didn’t really wind up doing anything. One time, Audrey and Maleah dyed their hair pink, and Carly loved it.

Lisa and Mark loved her in a different way, but it’s not what you think, Lisa said. She loves all her kids in a different way. Maleah had perfect, blonde hair that fell down her back, no matter how many times she cut it off. It drove Carly, who kind of wanted to be a princess, crazy to have a sister who actually looked like one. And yet when people saw Maleah, they would tell her she looked “just like her Dad,” which made her giggle even though she secretly loved it.

Maleah was one of them. And that’s what made it so hard to say goodbye.

She began to feel bad on Thanksgiving in 2013, and that began a series of ups and downs and a lot of time in the hospital. After so many years, her body began to reject the heart that saved her. It seemed surreal, Lisa said, because she’d had no problems. She would feel better, and then she would crash.

Maleah was having a good week, and it seemed like they could bring her home. It had been more than a month since she was home, so they painted her room pink and got her new carpet and bought her some zebra appliances, her favorite animal. Carly went to her hospital room and they ate birthday cake M&Ms, and she painted Maleah’s toenails.

And then she was gone. On April 2, 2014, she died. She was 17.

She used to do all these stupid things, Lisa said, like piercing her belly button and sneaking out and having coffee, all these things that could hurt her heart, and it would make Lisa so mad. But now she’s glad Maleah had those moments. She lived a life.

The family used to release balloons on her death day, but they’ve decided not to do that any longer. Audrey wanted to do something nice for her senior project for University High School, and she thought of her sister. She will host a 5K in her honor, Miles For Maleah, to benefit Children’s Hospital.

The run will be Sunday, on Maleah’s birthday. Rather than mark the quiet place where she now rests, they want to remember the unexpected way she added to the noise in a loud home.

– Staff writer Dan England is The Tribune’s Features Editor. His column runs on Tuesday. If you have an idea for a column, call (970) 392-4418 or e-mail dengland@greeleytribune.com. Follow him on Twitter @ DanEngland.