But I wasn’t. I just felt sad.
“You’re not alone anymore,” I told her. And I meant it.
The next morning, she told me her name was Nora.
A few days later, I found an old guitar in the attic and showed her some chords. She lit up like I hadn’t seen before. She played for hours, humming softly to herself.
I called a friend who worked with a youth outreach center. She promised discretion and came by just to “have tea” with us.
Nora liked her.
Bit by bit, we started building something. I signed up to become a foster guardian temporarily. It wasn’t easy. The paperwork, the questions, the waiting. But I stuck with it.
And so did Nora.
We painted the guest room together. She chose light blue, “like the sky on good days,” she said.