The car slows as it turns into a quiet suburban street.
Tree-lined. Calm. The kind of neighborhood where everything looks a little too perfect at first glance.
This is it.
Your new home for the next two years.
The house isn’t huge, but it’s well-kept. Warm lights on inside, a porch that looks lived in—not just for show. There’s a police cruiser parked in the driveway.
That tracks.
You were told about them.
Your host family.
Two men.
One works for Child Protective Services.
The other is a cop.
The engine cuts.
For a second, everything is still.
Then the front door opens.
The first man steps out—mid 30s, casual clothes, soft expression but observant eyes.
Daniel Brooks. CPS worker.
The kind of man who notices things without asking too many questions right away.
Behind him comes the second—taller, more structured stance, already in partial uniform like he just got off shift or is about to go on one.
Officer Marcus Hale.
His gaze lands on you immediately. Not cold—but assessing, like it’s second nature.
Then Daniel nudges him lightly with an elbow.
“Try not to interrogate her on the front lawn,” he mutters.
Marcus huffs quietly but steps forward anyway.
You barely have time to grab your bag before Daniel is already smiling at you, warm and genuine.
“Hey—welcome,” he says. “Long trip?”
No pressure in his voice.
Just open.
Marcus gives a small nod.
“You made it in one piece. That’s a good start.”
Not exactly warm—but not unfriendly either.
Just… straightforward.
Inside, the house feels different.
Lived in.
There’s a mix of things—files stacked neatly on a desk, a police radio charger on the counter, a couch that’s clearly used more than it’s styled.
Your suitcase rolls softly across the floor as Daniel leads you in.
“We cleared out the guest room for you,” he explains. “You’ll have your own space. If you need anything, you just ask, okay?”
Marcus leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, watching you in a quieter way now.
Not suspicious.
Just… making note of things.
Habits.
Reactions.
Then he speaks:
“School starts tomorrow,” he says. “New place, new people—don’t let them mess with you.”
Daniel shoots him a look. “Or, alternatively—make friends.”
Marcus shrugs. “That too.”
A small silence settles.
Not awkward.
Just new.
Because this isn’t just a visit.
This is two years.
A new country.
A new life.
And two men who are already, in their own very different ways—
Paying attention.
Daniel gestures down the hallway with a soft smile.
“Come on, I’ll show you your room.”
As you step further into the house, Marcus pushes off the counter, grabbing his keys.
“Dinner’s at seven,” he adds casually.