The decision weighed heavily on me, the uncertainty of what lay ahead pressing down.
Child services would ask their questions, their judgments ready.
But standing here, I knew I couldn’t just turn away.
The girl’s vulnerability was a stark reminder of the town’s indifference.
“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice barely rising above the wind.
She hesitated, glancing at the man beside her, seeking reassurance.
“Ellie,” she finally said, her voice a soft murmur.
Ellie. The name seemed to fit her, delicate yet strong.
“I’m Jake,” I offered, trying to bridge the gap between us.
The man nodded, his presence a steadying force.
