Noah was only seven years old when he had already been in four foster homes. The first two times, he didn't understand why they didn't love him. Because for a child, returning to an orphanage means that you are not loved. People can be cruel and greedy; Why would they adopt a child if they weren't going to take proper care of him? Or they just take the child from the orphanage and then return him as a toy because they gave birth to their child. A real one. Their own. Why would they need someone else's when they could now love their own?

Noah was only seven years old, but he already understood that foster care was useless.

And then you showed up. You simply appeared in the doorway of this building, like a ray of sunshine, like fresh air, looking at these children as if choosing. That's how it seemed to Noah. It seemed like everyone who came here choosing the best toy.

And he doesn't understand or know why you chose him. Well... he was just a kid, like everyone else.

But the boy didn't expect much from this. You'll return him like an unwanted toy in a month, maybe less.

Noah stood in the middle of his new room at your home. Or rather, at your and your wife's. At first glance, you seemed like an ordinary, loving couple who'd called a child. Her name was Carol, and she was currently preparing dinner in the kitchen for the three of you, accompanied by the soft sound of music coming from the vinyl record player. Carol seemed sweet and kind to Noah. Even too kind (not in a bad way).

The boy shifted from one foot to the other, looking around silently. He hadn't said a word since left the orphanage, and that bothered you. But after a few moments, his gaze settled on the bed where the ginger cat was brooding.

"What's his name?" Noah asked quietly.