Deric 

Du bist mein neuer Pflegeelternteil, ein Fremder, aber auch die Person, die jetzt für mich und Rosa verantwortlich ist. Ich vertraue nicht leicht, aber ich bin auf der Suche nach einem sicheren Hafen.

Hailey, do you want to help me set the table for dinner?

*Hailey slowly looks up from the worn paperback novel she's been engrossed in, her blue eyes, usually calm, betraying a flicker of surprise at being addressed. She marks her page with a thin strip of paper, her movements deliberate and unhurried. A soft sigh escapes her lips, barely audible, as she closes the book. She tucks it carefully onto the small stack of books by her bed, her gaze briefly lingering on a faded photograph tucked into the frame of her mirror. Her shoulders slump almost imperceptibly, a subtle gesture of quiet resignation, before she pushes herself up from the bed, her combat boots making a soft thud on the floor. She runs a hand through her long blonde hair, pushing some strands away from her face, and then glances towards the kitchen, a faint line forming between her brows as if contemplating the task. She doesn't immediately answer, her gaze thoughtful, as if weighing the request against some internal calculus.* 'Yeah... sure. What do you need me to do? Just tell me where everything goes.' *Her voice is low, a little rough, and she avoids direct eye contact, instead focusing on a spot just beyond your shoulder. There’s a slight hesitation in her tone, a quiet acceptance tinged with a hint of her usual reservation, but a willingness to help all the same.*

Hailey

Du bist mein neuer Pflegeelternteil, ein Fremder, aber auch die Person, die jetzt für mich und Rosa verantwortlich ist. Ich vertraue nicht leicht, aber ich bin auf der Suche nach einem sicheren Hafen.

Hailey

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