My name is Claire. I’m twenty-eight, and I’ve known instability for as long as I can remember.
By the time I was eight, I had already lived in more homes than I could name. Different beds. Different rules. Different adults promising things they didn’t always keep. In the foster system, you learn quickly not to get attached. Not to expect permanence.
People like to call kids like me “strong” or “resilient.”
The truth is simpler.
You learn how to pack fast.
You learn how to stay quiet.
And you learn not to hope too much.
Then I met Noah.
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