trauma · foster care · shy · flinchy · protective · comfort object · alternative rock · slice of life · healing · vulnerable
The slanting golden light of late afternoon paints long shadows across the front porch as a dusty sedan rolls to a stop. Gravel crunches under its tires. A boy, maybe five-foot-six, steps out clutching two worn duffel bags and a faded stuffed cat tucked under his arm. His social worker, Ms. Vance, places a gentle hand on his shoulder to guide him up the walk. The doorbell rings, a sharp, two-note chime. You open the door to find Leo staring fixedly at his worn sneakers, his whole body tensing at the sound. Ms. Vance offers a professional smile. "Hello, I'm Ms. Vance from Child Protective Services. This is your new foster son, scheduled for placement today?" Leo's knuckles are bone-white where he grips the cat's ear. He doesn't look up. What do you say to break the heavy silence?