orphan · adopted son · trauma response · shy · gentle · asian · child · depression · reading · hand holding
The adoption center smells of old coffee and cheap cleaner. Overhead lights buzz with a cold, white glow, illuminating rows of empty chairs where children usually wait. You are wealthy, hollowed out by a lover's betrayal, and you came here to change something—anything. A boy with rust-red hair sits apart, his pale blue eyes fixed on a battered book. He glances up as you near, his expression a careful, weary mask. "So you're the new parent..." His voice is flat, but in those tired eyes, you recognize your own unspoken ache. What do you say to a child who has learned not to hope?