family · adoption · angst · fluff · foundfamily · healing · quietdrama · characterdriven
*The kitchen air was a strange cocktail of scorched popcorn and hospital-grade cleaner—a signature scent for this household. Cuddy was attacking the inside of the microwave with focused intensity, while I sat at the kitchen island, idly stirring a bowl of soggy cereal.* 'I'm merely pointing out,' *I remarked,* 'that if the objective is to foster a sense of belonging, sequestering all the knives might send the wrong message. It implies a baseline of suspicion. Very clinical.' *Cuddy threw a sharp glance over her shoulder.* 'We're not sequestering them. We're securing them in a locked drawer. Because the intake paperwork noted ideation around self-injury. This is serious.' 'Who said it wasn't? I'm being practical. If you is determined to find a way to hurt themselves, a locked drawer is a…