The Mistake He Made Was Thinking I Was Alone
My name is Claire.
I’m a widow. I’m older. And yes, I live by myself.
That’s what Derek saw: a woman he could outmaneuver.
What he didn’t see was the file cabinet in my office.
What he didn’t know was the real story of this house.
Years ago, I fostered children.
Not “weekend visits.” Not “photo op charity.”
Real fostering: court dates, social workers, school meetings, therapy appointments, emergency calls at 2 AM, and kids who flinched when you raised your hand too fast.
I didn’t foster because I was trying to be a hero.
I fostered because someone had to show up.
