Lauren called her best friend, Rachel Vega, and the two of them immediately turned into a hurricane of preparation—new bedding with butterflies, a star projector nightlight, colored pencils, picture books, a soft stuffed bear, and a room repainted in a gentle lavender. Lauren kept second-guessing every choice, terrified Emma wouldn’t like any of it, but Rachel squeezed her shoulder and said, “You’re not trying to be perfect. You’re trying to be safe. That’s what she needs.”
Saturday arrived like a new birthday.
The child services building looked worn and tired, like it had seen too many goodbyes. A young social worker named Megan led Lauren into a small meeting room and warned her not to rush anything. Then the side door opened.
Emma sat in a corner chair, small and still, eyes lowered. She didn’t speak at first. Lauren sat nearby, offered colored pencils, and talked softly about ordinary things—neighbors, a nearby bakery, a little garden space by the building. Emma eventually took a green pencil and drew a tiny tree. When Lauren asked if Emma wanted to come home with her, Emma didn’t answer with words—just a faint nod.