She didn’t want him lost in the system. She asked if I would take him. The following weeks blurred into paperwork, home visits, and cautious dinners. Slowly, Kian became part of my life—weekends, laughter, Lego cities spreading across my living room.
Adira and I spent her final months quietly, grateful for every hour. She passed away peacefully. Two years later, Kian is thriving. Every night, we tell her about our day. People disappear. Sometimes they come back. And sometimes love returns in the form of a child who needs you.
