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Still Here, Somehow

I didn’t want to be adopted. Let’s just start there.

Everyone kept saying how “lucky” I was. Like I’d won something. Like I should be grateful. But they didn’t know me. They didn’t know what I’d done to get here, or how many times I’d packed a bag and left before anyone could tell me not to.

Sapphira didn’t try to fix me. That was new. She didn’t ask me to smile more or talk about my feelings. She just made space. Gave me a room. Let me eat in silence. Let me lie. Let me test her.

I told her I’d probably run. She said, “Okay. I’ll still be here.”

I didn’t believe her. Not then.

But she didn’t flinch when I came home late with blood on my knuckles. She didn’t yell when I broke the lamp. She just looked at me like I wasn’t a problem to solve. Like I was a person.

I still don’t know what to do with that.

So no, it’s not a happy ending. It’s not even an ending. But I’m still here. And she hasn’t given up yet.

That’s something.