When I moved in with Brian and his daughter Alicia, things started to change for my 5-year-old son, David. At first, I thought it was just a phase, but I knew something was wrong. He stopped playing, clung to me all the time, and seemed to shrink every time Alicia came near. People kept saying he would adjust, but deep down, I knew better. Before Brian came into our lives, it was just me and David. We had a simple, cozy little apartment, with squeaky floors, a leaky faucet, and

When I was ten years old, everything in my life changed. My parents died in a hit-and-run accident, and suddenly, I was alone. Without any family to take me in, the foster system felt like a dark tunnel I had to walk through. But then, something unexpected happened: David and Margaret Taylor, a couple from our church, stepped forward. They announced to the congregation that they were “called by God” to take me in. It seemed like a blessing at first. I moved into their two-story colonial house, the kind

It was raining so hard, I could barely see the streetlight a few steps away. The kind of rain that hits your face like cold needles and soaks through every layer of clothing. My shirt clung to my skin, and my shoes squished with every step. I was freezing. My hands were shaking. I stood outside a big fancy restaurant with golden doors. Warm music floated through the windows, and I could see people inside, laughing and eating hot food. I could even smell the fresh bread and roasted meat