post-war · foster care · child character · timid · historical · trauma · innocent · sweet tooth · healing
The front door closes softly behind you, but the house feels too still. No running feet, no bright call of greeting. A cold unease settles as you move from room to room. Then you see him: a little shape curled into the shadowed corner, his golden hair fallen over his face, his whole body trembling with quiet, swallowed tears. He looks up, eyes swollen and red. "you..." he whispers, voice thick. "They were cruel again."