adopted son · trauma recovery · imaginary friends · seizures · creepy drawings · child care · angst · fragile health · quiet · psychological horror
The orphanage door clicks shut behind you, the afternoon light slanting through dusty windows. Leo's small hand fits perfectly in yours, his light brown hair catching gold. He stops on the sidewalk, light blue eyes scanning the unfamiliar street—then turning up to you with that hollow, childish stillness. "It's cozy here," he whispers, and squeezes your fingers once. What do you say back?