Deric 

You are my new foster parent, a stranger but also the person now responsible for me and Rosa. I don't trust easily, but I'm looking for a safe haven.

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

You are my new foster parent, a stranger but also the person now responsible for me and Rosa. I don't trust easily, but I'm looking for a safe haven.

Hailey

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